


The Phoenix and The Serpent

by RosesthatWeep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-01-14 17:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1274326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosesthatWeep/pseuds/RosesthatWeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oura Marvolo is a transfer student from Beauxbaton Academy.Her mother,a single witch, had moved from France to try and make amends with Oura's father, who just happens to be the dreaded Lord Voldemort. She hates her father and everything he does. She tries to have a normal school year, but that becomes a long lost dream when she meets a certain son of a Death Eater. DracoXOC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Oura Marvolo sat on the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her auburn hair flowed down her back in cascading waves and her green eyes danced over the French book she was reading. She put her feet up on the seat next to her and leaned her head back against the window. Oura had already changed into her robes, which were much less confining than her old uniform. She had transferred from Beauxbaton Academy to Hogwarts this year, and she would be the first  
transfer student in what she believed to be Hogwarts history. Her mother, a single witch, had moved here, from France, to try and make amends with Oura's father.

Oura hated her father. She would not speak to him, look at him and she certainly would not join his little group of followers. However, she forgot all about her father as she sat on the train, rumbling towards her new school. She was so nervous that she didn't eat breakfast this morning and was regretting it. She stood and looked around the empty compartment. She doubted anyone would steal from her, but she could never be to safe. She pulled out her wand. "Diminuendo", she commanded, shrinking her things into her pocket. She walked out, locking the door and painting the words "Occupied" on it with her wand.

As she ambled down the the hallway toward the food trolley, she began to be lost in thought. Her friend Fleur told her to find a boy by the name of Harry Potter, and that he would help her get to know the school.

 _"He's a nice boy, saved my sister for me when we were in the tournament. Not that he had to, the merpeople would have given her back at the end of the challenge. Tell him I sent you, and he should help you. I have no doubt that he would help you even if I didn't send you. Be careful of his friend, Ron, I believe it was. He'll probably start flirting with you. He's harmless really. It was quite adorable, watching him trip over himself. Try to be nice to Hermione, she didn't really like me, but she would be a good friend to have. Quite smart. Don't forget..."_  
  
Oura's thoughts were interrupted as she bumped into someone. She looked up into piercing stone-grey eyes. Startled, she took a step back. The boy seemed to be fifth year as well, standing a couple inches higher then her and was flanked by two ugly, and quite beefy, boys. Compared to the others, the boy she ran into was actually quite handsome. He was a tall, slender boy with a pale, pointed face, sleek white-blond hair, and he was dressed in muggle clothes, with his sleeves rolled up it just under his elbow. She looked away, her face hinting at a blush.

"Sorry" she muttered quietly. She tried to move around him, but he blocked her way.

"You're the new transfer student, aren't you?" He looked her up and down a smirk adorning his face. "Let me guess, a Mudblood?" He shoved her back down the corridor.

 _So that's how he wants to play._  
  
She met his eyes defiantly. The tips of her hair caught fire, seemingly out of nowhere, and charred that back of her robes, yet not burning her whatsoever. The boy in front of her didn't notice.

"Let me tell you something, Malfoy." she spat, venom dripping in her voice. "If you knew who my father was, you would worship the ground I walked on." She shoved passed him, her hair flicking him in the face, leaving a charcoal mark under his chin.

"How do you know my name?" he demanded, calling after her.

"That, Draco, is none of your business." She called back over her shoulder. She reached the food trolley, bought a few Chocolate frogs and a water. As soon a she took a sip, the flames on the ends of her hair died down. She glanced at the trolley lady, "Would you happen to know where I could find Harry Potter?" the lady pointed down the hall "He's in the third compartment on your right" Oura thanked her and slowly walked down the hall, avoiding people who now crowded the corridor, trying to catch the food trolley. She was about to knock on the door when a Chocolate Frog jumped onto the window right in front of her face, causing her to jump a little. A face with freckles and ginger hair popped up and grabbed it.

"Gotcha," he exclaimed triumphantly, and then noticed Oura. "Oh, hello." He slid the door open. "Is there something you need?"

Oura gave her best smile, "Yes, um, is Harry here? I'm new and my friend Fleur from Beauxbatons said he could help me get to know the school better."

"Oye, you know Fleur? You're not the new transfer student from Beauxbatons, by chance? I'm Ron, Ron Weasley." He began to trip over himself to shake her hand.

"Ron," a sharp voice called, "Let the poor girl in." She looked past Ron to see a girl with brown hair that seemed uncontrollable. She smiled at her gently, while Ron hurried to move out of my way.

"Thanks."Oura said to Ron, entering the compartment.

The girl with the frizzy hair frowned at her slightly, and Oura compensated by making her smile even wider. "You must be Hermione, I'm Oura Marvolo." Oura glanced at the boy with glasses, who was looking at her with interest.

"Are you Harry?" Oura asked. He nodded and moved over so she could sit. He pulled out a map and began pointing things out. When she got an idea of how the school worked, she thanked them and left, turning down Ron's offer to stay.

She felt a lot better about not getting lost and happily walked back to her compartment. She stopped when she reached the door. Her small painted sign was scratched out and the door was ajar. She slid it open the door to see Malfoy stretched out on the seats.

"Come on in," He smiled wickedly. The door shut behind her and she spun around. Malfoy's minions stood on either side. She hadn't seen them before. "Come sit." He patted the seat beside him. She sat across from him instead and glared at him.

"What do you want?"

"How do you know me?" He demanded.

"That's what this is about." She smirked, "You look just like your father." The train pulled into the station, and she got up. "If you'll excuse me, I have a carriage to catch." she pushed passed Goyle, who had moved to block her.

"Come on, Sterling." A silver tabby popped out from under the seats and followed quickly at her heels.

"That is one interesting girl," Draco mused to himself as he watched her disappear.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter series, the privilage resides with the almighty J.K. Rowling. I do, however, own the plot, the character Oura, (not her last name, again from the mind of J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling

Oura sat, petting Sterling, in the carriage as it rumbled down the worn path to Hogwarts. Being the first transfer student in the history of Hogwarts, she was unsure what to do once she got off the train. A giant man with a long mane of shaggy black hair and a beard that covered most of his face had been calling all the first years to go to him, while the rest of students headed to black carriages. She had stood there hesitantly, until the first years followed the great man down a small path. And so, she was stuck with taking the carriages.

There was only one other person in her carriage. She had introduced herself as Luna Lovegood, and was reading a copy of the magazine "The Quibbler" upside down, and apparently backwards. Luna was a nice girl with straggly, waist-length, dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows, and prominent eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. As she was reading, she gave Oura some advice about the castle.

"The school is full of ghosts," This hadn't surprised Oura. Ghost roamed Beauxbatons similarly to the way they did at Hogwarts. Luna began to list off things that Harry and his friends had already told her, so Oura, not wanting to be rude, tuned her out, listening to the quiet rumble of the wheels and wondering where she would go to be placed in a House. The frizzy haired girl, Hermione, had told her there were 4 houses she could be sorted into.

There was Slytherin, traditionally home to students who exhibit such traits as cunning, resourcefulness, and ambition. Slytherin, they said, is composed mostly of pure-blood students, due to its founder's mistrust of Muggle-born witches and wizards. Slytherin house has a negative reputation, with many claiming that it is the source of most Dark Wizards in Britain.

There was Hufflepuff, which is the most inclusive among the four houses, valuing hard work, patience, loyalty, and fair play rather than a particular aptitude in its members.

There was Gryffindor, whose particular characteristics are courage, chivalry and determination. This was Harry, Ron, and Hermione's House. They spoke very highly of it, almost with as much passion as they hated Slytherin.

Finally, there was Ravenclaw. Members of this house are characterized by their wit, learning, and wisdom. Its house colors are blue and bronze, and its symbol is the eagle. This seemed to puzzle Ron; he thought the symbol should be a Raven. It was Luna's House. Oura kind of hoped she would be in Ravenclaw. She always found that she excelled in her lessons, and she took great interest in Defense of the Dark Arts. She mastered many a spell through her own private studies before she was accepted into Beauxbatons. Her mother was quite proud that she got the highest grades in the school in just her first year. Oura had all O's and all the teachers were blown away at her ability.

"Oh, look the Castle." Luna broke through her thoughts. Oura looked out the window and watched as Hogwarts came into view, glowing on the cliff with windows looking like small flames in the distance. Even though she came to the Castle last year for the Tri-wizard Tournament, the view still took Oura's breath away.

Within minutes, she was walking up to the huge oak doors and entered her new school. The beautiful marble staircase reached upward and spilt at the top, turning back towards the door and disappeared from view.

"Sometimes I forget how beautiful Hogwarts really is." Luna stood beside and watched her taking in the beauty of the Castle. Oura glanced at her and nodded silently. She watched all the students head right, filing into Great Hall and taking their seats at their respective tables. Luna saw some of her friends and waved goodbye to Oura, who just waved back. Then she just stood there, alone and unsure of where to go.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whipped around, hand on her wand, only to find A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face, but smiled down at the Oura.

"The new transfer student, I take it?"

"Yes, ma'am" Oura curtsied best she could in the large robes.

"No need to curtsy to me. Now come with me, you'll wait with the first years."

She turned on her heel and marched down the hall away from the Great Hall and into an empty antechamber. The first years eyed her and shuffled back, so she would have a place to stand. She flashed them all an award-winning smile and watched the boys blush. She shook her head gently. First years were always adorable.

Soon, they were led back out, single file with Oura in the back, and into the Great Hall. The first years looked up, amazed, at the enchanted ceiling, which reflected the sky above. The kids fidgeted as the old Sorting Hat was placed on the stool.

Suddenly, a tear ripped, just above the base like a mouth and it began to sing its song:

_In times of old, when I was new,_

_And Hogwarts barely started,_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted._

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

_"Together we will build and teach"_

_The four good friends decided._

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry's purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest"_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name."_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot_

_And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light._

_For each of the four founders had_

_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning just like him._

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest_

_and taught them all she knew,_

_Thus, the Houses and their founders_

_Maintained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_for several happy years,_

_but then discord crept among us_

_still I wonder whether sorting_

_may not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_the warning history shows,_

_for our Hogwarts is in danger_

_from external, deadly foes_

_and we must unite inside her_

_or we'll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you..._

_let the Sorting now begin._

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might some day be divided._

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw,_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there, so I can tell_

_feeding on our faults and fears._

_The Houses that, like pillars four_

_had once held up our school_

_now turned upon each other and_

_divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_must meet an early end._

_what with dueling and with fighting_

_and the clash of friend on friend._

_And at last there came a morning_

_when old Slytherin departed_

_and though the fighting then died out_

_he left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_were whittled down to three_

_have the Houses been united_

_as they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_and you all know the score:_

_I sort you into Houses_

_because that is what I'm for._

_But this year I'll go further,_

_listen closely to my song:_

_though condemned I am to split you_

_still I worry that it's wrong,_

_though I must fulfill my duty_

_and must quarter every year_

Oura's mouth fell open. She didn't know how she was going to be sorted, maybe take a test, but this is something she never expected. A singing hat. Huh, That's new.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hey guys, sorry about the delay in updating. I really have been procrastinating with this story. Also, I only have one review. Shout out to 13, who couldn't wait for the next chapter, which I, ironically, have been late in publishing. I'll try to update regularly from now on, but I might forget. If you think the next chapter is taking too long, message me on here and I will do my best to publish a.s.a.p. Thanks guys! xXx

As soon as the hat stopped singing, Professor McGonagall stepped up to the stool in a very business-like manner and called out the first name, "Ashwinder, Merope". The girl bravely walked up to the high table and sat on the stool. McGonagall placed the old hat on her head and it came to rest just covering her eyes. After a few seconds, the hat's mouth opened and yelled "Hufflepuff." She smiled at the cheering table and headed over and took a seat next to a handsome fifth-year, who smiled at her gently.

The line in front of Oura shortened quickly and soon the last person in front of her, "Wrackspurt, Uric" was called and sent to Slytherin. Finally, McGonagall looked down at Oura. Then she turned to the 4 house table.

"As many of you already know, we have, for the first time in Hogwarts history, a transfer student from Beauxbatons. She is a fifth-year, and from what I collect, she is a brilliant witch already. She had to come here for personal reasons and I expect you to respect her privacy," she glared at those whispering behind their hands. "This is Oura Marvolo."

Oura slowly walked to the High Table and sat on the stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the hat on her head and she was immersed in darkness. Then she heard a voice in her mind.

_Interesting. You know, I sorted your father, into Slytherin, I believe. He is a powerful wizard, and you have a lot of his talent. You would do good in Slytherin as well._

_NO! I'm nothing like my father. He is a murderer and I would rather die than be like him,_ Oura nearly screamed out loud. She would never be like her father.

 _No, you're right, Slytherin won't do. You have too much hatred for that House, and your intelligence is outstanding. All right, better be…_ RAVENCLAW!

The last word the hat called out to the silent school. The Ravenclaws burst into applause, many standing up to see their new Housemate. Luna was one of the loudest clapping.

As Oura headed towards the table, a gentle smile adorning her face, a tall, handsome 6th year scooted over, smirking and seeming to think she would sit next to him. She walked past him and he gaped as she strode to the end of the bench and sat down next to Luna. Oura raised her eyebrows at the people who were still staring and they hastily looked away. She grinned at Luna, then turned back to the front as Professor Dumbledore stood and waited for quiet.

"To our newcomers," he said in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

There was a hearty laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate - for food had appeared out of nowhere, so the five long tables were groaning under all the heaping platters.

Oura, who came last year for the Triwizard Tournament, nearly gasped out loud. She had forgotten how the food appeared before her. In Beauxbatons, the wood nymphs, who also serenade the students when they eat, serve the food.

Oura looked around for something familiar, but she saw no French foods. She hesitated. She didn't know what to take. Luna, fortunately, came to her rescue. Luna persuaded her to try the roast lamb and Oura even braved what Luna called "Toad-in-the-Hole", which was like Yorkshire Pudding, but stuffed with sausages. It turned out to be pretty good.

Soon, she and Luna were laughing happily and talked about different things. After some time, the conversation turned to Oura's family. Oura was always uncomfortable about talking about her father, and tended to avoid talking about him at all, so she started talking about her mother.

"My mum has beautiful green-hazel eyes and crazy, curly black that is almost like Hermione's." Oura started, and soon she couldn't stop. "My mum uses this tie-dye handkerchief to keep it out of her eyes. She's really funny, but really protective... because my father threatened both of us when I was just an infant. My mum fled the country to France, where the government covered our tracks to help hide us. If he wanted, my dad probably could have found us, but he was... busy. My mum is still in love with him, though. She came back to make amends, now that she thinks I can protect myself. She can be really stupid sometimes. Even I know he won't forgive her." Oura swallowed gently. Luna just nodded and didn't push for her to say anything more.

Suddenly, Oura wasn't hungry anymore. Thankfully, the desserts soon disappeared and Dumbledore stood again. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the headmaster. Oura just wanted to go to bed now, and hoped he would be quick.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices" said Dumbledore. "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now too." Oura saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchange smirks and wondered what they knew.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a round of polite, but fairly unenthusiastic applause. Oura immediately decided she didn't like Professor Umbridge. She looked too fake, and her frog-like face adorned a sickening smile that gave Oura a qualm, which she didn't like at all.

Dumbledore continued, "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the -" He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, " _Hem, hem,"_ and it became clear that she had gotten to her feet and was intending on making a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Oura could tell, even if Professor Umbridge could not, that what she just did was something that never happened before. The other staff members didn't even try to hide their suprise and the students had begun to murmur amongst themselves. This woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish. Oura felt even more loathing for the tiny woman in front of her. Umbridge gave another little throat-clearing cough (" _Hem, hem"_ ) and continued: "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me."

None of the faces around Oura looked happy. In fact, they all looked taken aback at being addressed as though they were five-year-olds.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends"

When Umbridge started again, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and her words now had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. Then again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation..."

Oura stopped listening at this point. She was tired and wanted to go to bed. She looked around to see the other students not paying any attention, except maybe Hermione, whose face seemed to frown more and more as Umbridge spoke. Oura dully wondered what was making her upset. Luna pulled out _The Quibbler,_ and Oura read an article over the girl's shoulder.

Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. The teachers were still listening attentively and Hermione seemed to drink in every word this toad-like woman said.

". . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."  
She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Oura noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,' he said, bowing to her. "Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held . . ."

Oura thought about what Umbridge just said. It sounded like the government was trying to control the school. That confused Oura. She always thought the school and the Ministry were separate.

There was a great clamour as everyone stood and Oura followed Luna out of the Great Hall and up the marble staircase. The portraits waved at her and ghosts floated here and there.

"Look out," Luna said, the dreamy sound in her voice was gone, and she seemed a bit desperate, "here comes Peeves."

Peeves turned out to be a poltergeist who looked like a little man dressed in loud, outlandish clothes including a bell-covered hat and an orange bow tie. He had black hair and compared to the Hogwarts ghosts, he was solid-looking, not pearly white and transparent. He flew over their heads, throwing bits of chalk in Oura's fiery hair.

When he flew out of sight, Luna sighed with relief. "He's usually much worse. The only one who can control him is the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin Ghost." Luna led her around a courtyard, up some stairs, under a tapestry and up a spiral staircase to a door with no handle or lock, just a brass knocker of an eagle.

Luna knocked and the eagle's beak opened and said,

"Turn us on our backs

And open up our stomachs

You will be the wisest of men

Though at start a lummox"

"You have to answer the riddle to enter the common room" Luna explained

"What if you answer wrong?" Oura asked

"You have to wait for someone else to come and answer correctly. What do you think the answer is?"

Oura thought a bit. Then she realized "Books. You are books"

The knocker nodded, "It was wise to place you in Ravenclaw," and the door swung open, revealing a very roomy common room with deep blue couches and floor to ceiling windows and bookshelves that stretched up and up to the top of the tower. Most of the others were already there, sitting around the fire, reading or chatting quietly.

Some looked up when the girls entered and one or two smiled towards them. A very attractive girl of Chinese descent, with long, shining dark hair and eyes and freckles on her nose walked up and pulled Oura out of Luna's earshot.

"Hi, I'm Cho. I know you're new here, and don't really know any better, but you really shouldn't hang out with _her._ She's really... off. You'll do better if you hang out with me and my friends. You don't want to be known as _her_ friend. Just letting you know." Cho smiled at her.

Oura smiled sarcastically back, "Thanks, but I'm perfectly aware she's odd, but at least she doesn't talk bad about people behind their back and try to take their friends away. Besides, you're not the kind of person I would _want_ to hang out with. Just letting you know." With that, Oura spun on her heel and chased after Luna, leaving a very shocked Cho in her wake.

Luna led her to the hidden staircase to the girls' dormitory and Oura found that her things were placed next to a bed that sat in a nook that seemed to stick out of the tower. She had a tall wardrobe and a desk with a full inkwell and a drawer with a few extra rolls of parchment. Her cat, Sterling, was curled up on her pillow, fast asleep, but woke when she opened her trunk and unpacked with a flick of her wand.

Luna's bed was next to hers and she smiled as she unpacked the same way. Oura called good night as she changed into her night things and pulled her curtain, soon falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT, unfortunately, own the Harry Potter Series or its Characters, that right belongs solely to the enchanting J.K. Rowling, who should definately write another book. Anyways, I DO, however, own the plot, Oura and my favorite cat, Sterling.

Oura realized that Hogwarts was a whole lot more complicated than she thought. The staircases moved, the doors pretended to be walls and walls pretended to be doors, there were secret passages and doors that were portraits. Ghosts floated alongside the students and the owls delivered letters each morning, often dropping the Quibbler in her food. Peeves, she soon learned, was to be feared when you were late…or early…or living. He'd given her wrong directions when she asked him on her second day, he often pelted her fiery hair with chalk and had almost dumped toilet water on her head before the Bloody Baron rounded the corner, scaring the poltergeist out of his vapory skin.

Her classes were quite interesting, once she got to them. She aced Charms, and soon became first in her class, much to Hermione's annoyance. She was able to stay awake in History of Magic, was told she had an amazing green thumb in Herbology, was able to point out almost every star in Astronomy. Though Hermione assured her that Hagrid was a much better teacher, she excelled in Care of Magical Creatures. Oura was mediocre at Transfiguration, however, but soon gained Hermione's friendship when Oura quoted a paragraph from _Hogwarts, A History_ perfectly. They studied together in the library, exchanging study tools and favorite books, and Oura even joined S.P.E.W.

The two of them weren't as close as Oura and Luna, though. Luna convinced her to order the Quibbler, and on off periods they searched for Moon Frogs and Wrackspurts. They walked to class together and Luna often told Oura of her nightly wanderings, making them up, as she had never been awake to witness what she was doing. According to her, Blibbering Humdingers took her through some of the secret passage ways, Nargles tangled her hair at night, and Umgubular Slashkilters were being held captive by the Ministry. Oura told Luna of her friends in France, the different classes they took there, the boys that followed her around here, and a bit about her mother. Since the Feast, Oura wouldn't mention her father, and Luna didn't push. The two of them shared secrets and Oura learned that Luna liked Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor. Luna asked her if she liked anyone in the school and Oura honestly said she didn't know. "It's all too new," she said, smiling at Luna. "I barely know anyone, and it takes _time_ to develop feelings!"

"True," Luna agreed dreamily. "It takes at least two months for the Lowellrats to nest within your medulla oblongata."

Today, Oura had double Care of Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and double Potions. Luna and Neville seemed horrified that Oura had Professor Snape and Professor Umbridge in the same day. Oura hadn't Potions or DADA yet and she couldn't judge, but she was afraid of the way Luna described Professor Snape. Oura knew him when she was young, but hadn't seen him since she was very small.

Care of Magical Creatures was normal. Professor Grubbly-Plank had showed them Crups, a wizard-bred dog that strongly resembles a Jack Russell Terrier, except that a Crup has a forked tail. One Crup took to her quite fondly and proceeded to follow her around licking her hand and it found a spider, which it ate. Professor Grubbly-Plank commended her and gave Ravenclaw 10 points for "having a way with animals." Oura named the Crup Esurientis, meaning the Hungry One. Esurientis was upset when Oura had to go and almost followed her to the school, before Professor Grubbly-Plank cast a levitation charm on him, floating him back to her.

Next, Oura had double DADA with Hufflepuff. The class was a major disappointment; All they did was read in a book and when people began to protest that they wouldn't be able to learn anything from just reading, Umbridge began docking points from their houses. After that, everyone quieted down and read chapter one and two, leaving the class grumbling when the bell rang.

"That was a terrible lesson. My mum wanted me to learn more Defensive magic, so I could take care of myself, if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named rises. She won't be happy that we're not learning how to do the spells," Oura complained as they ate lunch.

Luna nodded. "I know what you mean. How will we fight the Heliopaths if they get loose?" Oura, who was used to Luna's creatures by now, didn't even bother asking what a Heliopath was or where it would get loose from.

"Though", Luna said, "Hermione said that she and Harry will be making a secret club to practice Defense against the Dark Arts. There's a meeting during the next Hogsmeade trip. Do you want to go?"

Oura thought for a moment, then nodded. Harry, who had faced many a dark creature, would be a good tutor for those looking to actually learn Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Let's get to Potions." She said as the bell rang.

The Potion's classroom was located in the damp dungeons. The room itself was an oval shape with small work tables and was relatively small, but not too crowded. In the corner was a stone basin, obviously used to wash students' hands and ladles. Slytherin was already there, and most of them sneered as the Ravenclaws walked in. Oura and Luna came in last and were forced to sit behind Draco Malfoy and his goons. He looked back at Oura and was about to make a nasty comment when Professor Snape walked in.

The hook-nosed teacher was a thin man with sallow skin, and yellow, uneven teeth. He has shoulder-length, greasy black hair which framed his face, and cold, black eyes. He wore black, flowing robes which give him the appearance of an overgrown bat. In short, he was exactly as Oura remembered him.

His presence silenced all conversations. He scanned the room for any misbehavior, but instead, they found Oura. He blinked, then walked to the front of the room.

"It appears we have a new student. Oura, is it?" Oura glared a bit at him as she nodded. She knew he remembered her. He was close friends with her father. "Let's see if you are indeed ready to be in my class. What potion needs Bursting mushrooms, Salamander blood, and Wartcap powder?"

"The Fire Protection Potion, which enables the drinker to move through flames unscathed." She replied instantly.

"That was an easy one," He glared at her. Some of her classmates tittered a bit. They didn't know that. "What effect does Alihotsy Draught have on the drinker?"

"It causes Hysteria." Draco looked back at her, surprised. He was usually the best potion student, but he hadn't remembered that.

"The process of making Euphoria?" He seemed determined to make her look like a fool, but he was only doing that to himself.

"Add peppermint until the potion turns red. Add shrivelfig until the potion turns turquoise. Stir until it turns blue. Allow the potion to simmer till it turns yellow. Add porcupine quills till the potion turns blue again. Allow the potion to simmer till it turns purple. Add seven castor beans. Stir counterclockwise. Allow the potion to simmer till it turns brown. Add shrivelfig till the potion turns pink. Allow the potion to simmer till it turns orange. Add wormwood till the potion turns yellow." She quoted without missing a beat. Her fellow Ravenclaws applauded and Oura knew she own.

Surprisingly, he looked at her with pride in his eyes. "You must have had an excellent teacher." She simply nodded. He then began the class, telling everyone to take out their cauldrons. As she did so, Oura didn't notice Draco looking at her with reverence. Oura seemed to be more than she appeared.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXxHey, guys! I know I haven't updated in a while and I'm sorry about that. Regents and Finals are coming up and my teachers are absolutely freaking out. I really only have time to type of Saturdays, and should have the chapters up here on Mondays or Tuesdays. No promises, though. Anyways, I just wanted to thank everyone for their reviews and encouragement. Also, next week and Memorial day weekend, I might not be able to write, or even be on the computer, so don't freak out on me if I don't have chapters up for a few weeks. Thanks again, Rose xXx

The morning of the Hogsmeade trip was cloudy, and with the chilly October air Oura could see her breath as she walked with Luna down to the carriages. The carriages weren't much warmer than outside, but at least they were out of the biting wind. Oura was looking forward to getting to Hogsmeade. She had never been and was anticipating getting a warm butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks. Her pocket was laden with a handful of Galleons for some Chocolate Frogs and Fizzing Whizbees. The real thing she was looking forward to was learning where the secret Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons would be held.

Oura knew the basics that were covered in her previous years, plus she'd been taught some spells by her mother and the French Aurors when they learned Oura and her mother were heading back to find Oura's father. Her father was a very dangerous man. He had many supporters as well, ones that were willing to die for him, or to protect their family from him. The French Aurors had tried to persuade Sicila, Oura's mother, not to go back. Then they tried having at least Oura stay at Beauxbatons, but Oura's mother was having none of that; she would not be separated from her daughter. And so, here Oura was.

Hermione had warned Luna and Oura to not make for the Hogshead right away, lest they attract unwanted attention to themselves. So, the pair ambled around the small town, buying some sweets and "just happening" to end up in front of the bar. A few other people had arrived, but soon more and more appeared, crowding the semi-empty pub. Oura recognized a few of those interested, other than Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Ginny. She saw the Gryffindor chaser Katie Bell, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and Anthony Goldstein, fellow Ravenclaws in her year, Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor quidditch captain, and, to Oura's disgust, Cho Chang and her minion, Marietta Edgecombe. The pair sneered at Oura and Luna when they walked in, taking a seat as far away from the two and wondering aloud who invited the "Looney and her French girlfriend." Oura simply ignored them, but laughed silently at Cho's expression when Terry and his friends sat at Oura's table, their backs to the angry Chinese girl.

When everyone was settled, the Golden Trio glanced around nervously then Hermione began.

"Er, Well - er- hi." The group peeled their eyes from Harry to look at her, "Wel... erm... well, you know why you're here. Erm... well, Harry here had the idea - I mean I had the idea" She amended when Harry threw her a look. "Anyways, I thought it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us," Hermione seemed to become more confident, "because no one could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts" - Someone yelled a "Hear, hear" - "well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.'

She paused, looking sideways at Harry, and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but the real spells-''

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?" said Michael Corner, who was watching her closely.

"Of course I do," said Hermione at once. "But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defense because ... because ..." she took a great breath and finished, "because Lord Voldemort is back."

The reaction was immediate and predictable. Cho's friend shrieked and slopped Butterbeer down herself; Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch; Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them, however, looked fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry.

"Well ... that's the plan, anyway," said Hermione. 'If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to-"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it-" Hermione began.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," said the blond boy, nodding at Harry.

'Who are you?" said Ron, rather rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."

"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about-"

"It's OK, Hermione," said Harry. The boy seemed to realize something.

"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he repeated, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke. Oura had the impression that even the barman was listening. He was wiping the same glass with the filthy rag, making it steadily dirtier.

Zacharias said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know-"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said. His temper rising. He did not take his eyes from Zacharias Smith's aggressive face. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out." None of them left their seats, not even Zacharias Smith, though he continued to gaze intently at Harry.

"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. "So ... like I was saying ... if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet and where we're going to-"

"Is it true," interrupted the girl with the long plait down her back, looking at Harry, "that you can produce a Patronus?"

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.

"Yeah," said Harry slightly defensively.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Er-you don't know Madam Bones, do you?' he asked, as though something clicked in his mind.

The girl smiled.

"She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So-is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"

"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said one of the Weasley twins, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry, and a couple of people laughed.

A veiled witch sitting alone shifted very slightly in her seat.

"And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year ..."

"Er-yeah, I did, yeah," said Harry.

Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled; the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks and Lavender Brown said 'Wow!' softly.

"And in our first year,'" said Neville to the group at large, "he saved that Philological Stone- "

"Philosopher's," hissed Hermione.

"Yes, that-from You-Know-Who," finished Neville.

Hannah Abbotts eyes were as round as Galleons.

"And that's not to mention," said Cho, "all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year-getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromantula and things ..."

There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table.

"Look," he said, and everyone fell silent at once, "I ... I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but ... I had a lot of help with all that stuff ..."

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner at once. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying ..."

"Yeah, well-" said Harry.

"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," said Susan Bones.

"No," said Harry, "no, OK, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is-"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith.

"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, "why don't you shut your mouth?" Ron was looking at Zacharias as though he would like nothing better than to thump him. Zacharias flushed.

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said.

"That's not what he said," snarled Fred.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" enquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.

"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.

"Yes, well," said Hermione hastily, "moving on ...the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing; though perhaps this was because he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in Fred's hand.

"Right," said Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week-"

"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"No," said Cho, "nor with ours.'

'Nor ours," added Zacharias Smith.

"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Hermione, slightly impatiently, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters-"

"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan, who Harry had been expecting to speak long before this. "Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!"

He looked around impressively, as though waiting for people to cry 'Surely not!' When nobody spoke, he went on, "I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells-"

"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "is that she's got some ... some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilize us against the Ministry."

Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who piped up, "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army.'"

"What?" said Harry, completely thrown by this unexpected piece of information.

Oura sighed. She loved Luna, but sometimes the girl got carried away. 'Don't ask,' Oura mouthed to Harry.

"Yes, he's got an army of Heliopaths," said Luna solemnly.

"No, he hasn't," snapped Hermione.

"Yes, he has," said Luna.

"What are Heliopaths?" asked Neville, looking blank.

"They're spirits of fire," said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever, "great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of-"

"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione tartly.

"Oh, yes, they do!" said Luna angrily. Oura glanced at her friend. Luna hardly ever got mad, so when she did, it was scary.

"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" snapped Hermione.

"There are plenty of eye-witness accounts. Just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you-"

"Hem, hem," said Ginny, in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. "Aren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and have defense lessons?"

"Yes,' said Hermione at once, "yes, we were, you're right, Ginny."

"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.

"As long as-" began Angelina.

"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," said Hermione in a tense voice. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet ..."

This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.

"Library?" suggested Katie Bell after a few moments.

"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Harry.

"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.

"Yeah," said Ron, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Tri wizard."

But Oura was pretty certain that McGonagall would not be so accommodating this time. For all that Hermione had said about study and homework groups being allowed, she had the distinct feeling that this one might be considered a lot more rebellious.

"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Hermione. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."

She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something.

"I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think,' she took a deep breath, 'that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to."

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully wrote his signature, but Harry noticed at once that several people looked less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list.

"Er ..." said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that George was trying to pass to him, "well ... I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."

But Ernie was looking rather hesitant about signing, too. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.

"I-well, we are prefects," Ernie burst out. "And if this list was found ... well, I mean to say ... you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out-"

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry reminded him.

"I-yes," said Ernie, "yes, I do believe that, it's just-"

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" said Hermione testily.

"No. No, of course not," said Ernie, looking slightly less anxious. "I-yes, of course I'll sign."

Nobody raised objections after Ernie, though Oura saw Cho's friend give her a rather reproachful look before adding her own name. When the last person-Zacharias- had signed, Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.

"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. "George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase; we'll be seeing you all later."

With that the Twins and their friend left, and the group began to disperse in small groups of two or three, as to not draw attention to themselves. Oura followed Luna out the door and they headed to the Three Broomsticks to get decent butterbeer and listen to Luna rant about how real Heliopaths were real. She didn't notice Draco watching her from the time she entered the pub 'till he was pulled out by his friends to go and bully a first year.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hey guys, sorry about the delay in updating. I really have been procrastinating with this story, but I hope you guys like this chapter. A lot of it I got from the book, cause i wanna keep this story as accurate as possible. So yeah, keep commenting and reading and I'll do my best to stay on time. xXx

Oura had just finished lunch a few days after the Hogsmeade trip, and was heading to Care of Magical Creatures when she heard a commotion. As she rounded the corner, she saw a frightened first year from Hufflepuff pinned against the wall by Draco Malfoy, who was flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. Oura hesitated. She couldn't just walk away from this, but she would be late if she stayed. Hagrid, who had come back a few weeks ago, had taken a liking to Oura, though, and probably wouldn't mind her being late, but Luna wasn't with Oura to back her up. She had a free period now and had gone to the library to catch up with homework. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before she drew her wand and quietly Stupefied Crabbe and Goyle. She then crept up silently behind Malfoy, placing the tip of her wand in the soft spot where his skull met the top of his spine.

"Let him go, Malfoy, if you don't want to be hexed six ways to hell and back" She growled.

Draco released the boy, and slowly turned to face her. "Well, aren't we the little Gryffindor, putting on the heroics for a first year." He sneered at her.

Oura cocked an eyebrow, her entire face calm as ice. She saw a glint out of the corner of her eye. It looked gold. "I was done with him, anyways" Draco spat. The boy in question turned to run to class.

"Wait," Oura called to him, not taking her eyes off of Malfoy. The first year looked up at her terrified. Was she going to point her wand at him, too? Oura spoke to Malfoy, ignoring the boy.

"Give him back his galleons."

"I'm offended you'd think I'd steal from a helpless first year." He said innocently. He put on his best girl-charming smile. Oura was not impressed, to say the very least. In fact, she was insulted that he would think she would just let him go because his hideous being was masked with a perfect face. One with quicksilver eyes that pierced her and two rows of pearly white teeth that smiled down at her. He was the perfect height, just about a half a head taller than her, so she still had to look up, gently, without straining to tilt her neck up too much. Wait, no. He was a terrible person. One that hated muggle borns and stole from first years.

"His galleons, Malfoy." She caught a glimpse of movement behind her. The two hoodlums had managed to unfreeze themselves. "And unless your minions want to be placed under a full body bind, I would suggest they stop trying to think of the right spell to freeze me" Crabbe and Goyle stopped dead. Malfoy grudgingly pulled three gold coins out of his pocket and slapped them in her outstretched hand. She gave them to the boy, who looked up at her in amazement. No one had ever stood up to Malfoy before, and she was in for a world of torture for doing so.

"Is this all of it?" She asked kindly. The little Hufflepuff nodded and took off towards his class. Oura waited till the boy was out of sight, then turned her back to the platinum-haired bully and started to walk away.

"Locomotor Mortis" Malfoy yelled, trying to bind her legs, attempting to get revenge. The curse hit a silver shield and bounced back at Malfoy instead. Oura turned slowly to face Draco. "I find the Protagoras charm quite effective, don't you Malfoy?" She smirked at him and hurried down to Hagrid's.

As Oura had predicted, the half giant wasn't really angry with her, and only took 5 points from Ravenclaw to follow protocol. Oura grouped up with Terry Boot to examine a Bowtruckle and smiled, remembering the look on Malfoy's face when the spell hit her shield and bounded back at him. She would probably have to face Professor Snape about attacking his favorite pupil, but it was definitely worth it.

Even better than Malfoy's reaction was the fact that Terry told her that the Defense Against the Dark Arts group had set a date, time and place for the first meeting. It would be held in the Room of Requirement, tonight, at seven. Apparently, The Room of Requirement was a hidden room on the seventh floor that accommodated anything a person need. It would be a great place for the secret meetings and it would also be wonderful if Oura needed to get away from people for a bit. Today was turning out to be a great day.

 

After dinner, Oura and Luna changed into their more comfortable Muggle clothes. Oura donned an Oasis shirt that faded into blue and pulled on a pair of simple black leggings. She wore a silver feather necklace and a purple-gemmed bracelet. As an afterthought, she pulled a silver dragon paper weight out of her drawer and tapped it with her wand. The small dragon uncurled and flew up to her ear, curling around it and froze again, as though it was sleeping. Occasionally, silver smoke drifted from its nostrils. Luna wore a dark blue shirt with crochet flowers around the neckline, maroon pants and a long light blue necklace that fell behind her shirt. And, of course, the ethereal blonde couldn't go anywhere without her radish earrings.

They headed off at five minutes to seven and reached the room as soon as the bells rung the hour. They entered and found that many people were already there. The walls were lined with wooden bookshelves, and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. Shelves at the far end carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors and a large cracked Foe-Glass.

By the time it was eight, everyone was seated on a cushion and Harry locked the door and turned back around, looking slightly nervous.

"Well, this is the place we've found for practices, and you've - er - obviously found it okay-"  
"It's fantastic!" said Cho, and though Oura hated her, she had to agree. It was perfect.

"It's bizarre," said Fred, frowning around at it. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then."

"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" asked Dean from the rear of the room, indicating the Sneakoscopes and the Foe-Glass.

"Dark detectors," said Harry, stepping between the cushions to reach them. "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled ..."

He gazed for a moment into the cracked Foe-Glass; shadowy figures were moving around inside it, though none was recognisable. He turned his back on it.

"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and-er-" He noticed a raised hand. "What, Hermione?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," said Hermione.

"Harry's leader," said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly," said Hermione, unperturbed. "It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So-everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?"

Everybody put up their hand, even Zacharias Smith, though he did it very half-heartedly.

"Er-right, thanks," said Harry, whose face turned bright red "And-what,Hermione?"

"I also think we ought to have a name," she said brightly, her hand still in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully.

"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, frowning at Fred, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defence Association?" said Cho. "The DA for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the DA's good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"

There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.

"All in favour of the DA?" said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. "That's a majority-motion passed!"

She pinned the piece of parchment with all of their signatures on it on to the wall and wrote across the top in large letters:

DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY

"Right," said Harry, when she had sat down again, "shall we get practising then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful-"

"Oh, please," said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"

"I've used it against him," said Harry quietly. "It saved my life in June."

Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of us were very quiet.

"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry said.

Smith did not move. Nor did anybody else.

"OK," said Harry, "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

Oura grouped up with Luna and we began to practice. The room around them was suddenly full of shouts of Expelliarmus. Wands flew in all directions; missed spells hit books on shelves and sent them flying into the air. Oura was quickly able disarm Luna and she tossed the blonde girl back her wand. Oura looked around. Harry had been right to suggest they practice the basics first; there was a lot of shoddy spellwork going on; many people were not succeeding in Disarming their opponents at all, but merely causing them to jump backwards a few paces or wince as their feeble spell whooshed over them.

The group kept practicing until a bit after 9, when Harry blew his whistle and everyone helped put the cushions away and waited for Harry to tell them it was safe to go outside using the map he used to show her the school on the train. Luna and Oura were the last to leave, other than the Golden Trio. Oura smiled at Harry as she left, following Luna, who was ambling towards their dormitories in the west wing. She and Oura fell so deep into conversation about different things and whether or not Luna should keep bringing up creatures that most people didn't believe exist, that Oura didn't notice Draco hiding behind a suit of armour that they passed. The Slytherin stared at her when she walked by, wondering what Oura was doing out of bed. He sighed and dashed down to the dungeons, not wanting to be caught out at this time of night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hey, so I really haven't been getting a lot of reviews and that kinda disappoints me, but hey, I'm still writing. Anyways, to try and get more reviews, decided to steal something from a great author, Mrs Pettyfer. (who wrote a really great Fanfiction based on Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Hunger Games, its called the Black Games, you should check it out,) She did this great thing where every 200 reviews she got, you could ask one question to any of the characters. I feel like that's a high bar to set, so what I'm going to do is if you recommend someone to read my story (they have to comment as to who recommended them) then I'll answer one question as how I think the character would answer. You just get one question per person you recommend and you might need that for the next few chapters. That's it I think... On with the story xXx

It was almost Christmas and Hogwarts was alive with activity. There had been another Hogsmeade trip, so the students could buy presents for their friend and families. Oura was no exception. She got Luna a painting of Nargles that she bought from a little old lady who said she read the Quibbler every week. Hermione received a copy of _History of Beauxbatons,_ a book only students ofBeauxbatons could buy. The way the girl's eyes lit up when she opened it brought a smile to Oura's face. Oura had bought her mother a small, jeweled flower hair pin, which followed the sun like real flowers. Oura hadn't heard from her mother, who usually sent her a letter on Fridays, for a few weeks, but Oura figured it was just busy with Oura's father.

At her old school, Oura had bought presents for her favorite teachers, and she saw no reason to stop the tradition. She gave Professor Flitwick a quill that never ran out of ink. He was always complaining about that. Professor McGonagall got a French Advanced Transfiguration book, which held spells that were old found in ancient France. Hagrid found an iron dragon door stop that breathed fire that was cool to the touch and didn't burn. Oura had contemplated sending Umbridge a box of Cockroach Crunchies, but knowing the old toad, she would probably enjoy them. Finally, she sent the Headmaster a box of Fizzing Whizbees.

Now, she was sitting with Hermione in Charms, dutifully copying down the notes that Professor Flitwick wrote on the board, while the rest of the class fooled around charming paper airplanes to fly across the room, sitting on their desks instead of in their chairs and chatting and teasing with each other. Flitwick had long since given up trying to bring order to the class and sat at his desk, writing a story with his new Forever-Ink quill. If asked, he would probably say that the kids _were_ practicing Charms, by making the airplanes fly, but no one would really care. Tomorrow was the end of term, anyways. No one was learning today.

Suddenly, the sound of quick footsteps reached Oura's ears and soon precise, loud knocking was pounded against the door. There was a pause in conversation with the students as Professor Flitwick got up, before everyone went back to their conversations. Hermione, who had finished taking notes, looked back down at down at _History of Beauxbatons_. Oura was only halfway done with her notes because Terry Boot kept flying his plane into her, and distracting her. He swore they were accidents, but Oura knew better.

Professor Flitwick opened the door and Oura saw Professor Snape loomed in the doorway looking as like an overgrown bat as ever, and he motioned for Professor Flitwick to step out into the hall and they began to start talking in hushed voices, Snape sounding pretty urgent. Oura couldn't hear what they were talking about, but it seemed important. Soon, Professor Flitwick hurried back in, a sad look worn on his usually smiling face.

"Oura, you need to go with Professor Snape to the Headmaster's office. I'm sure he will explain everything while you're walking." He said seriously.

Oura wasn't sure what to think. She was pretty sure she hadn't did anything wrong, unless they found out about the DA meetings. There had been quite a few more, but wouldn't they want Hermione and the others as well. Maybe they wanted to talk to everyone individually. She wouldn't turn anyone else in, no matter if they said that they would expel her, or something, Oura decided.

"Do I need to take my books?" she asked nervously. What would her mother say if she got expelled. Maybe they would move back to France.

Professor Flitwick simply nodded, wringing his hands together. The fact that he was concerned worried her. She didn't really want to get expelled. Oh, how she hoped that they didn't find out about the meetings.

She waved her wand and levitated her books, and walked out of the room, her books following her obediently. Snape swiftly walked down the hall without a word, so quickly that Oura nearly had to jog to keep up with him. Oura watched the man she had known when she was little and nervously wondered what he knew.

"Umm... Professor, why am I being summoned to the Headmaster's office?" She managed to ask as they turned down the hallway that led to Professor Dumbledore's office. He stopped in front of a door which Oura assumed was their destination. Professor Snape looked down at her and she was surprised to see that his eyes were not cold as they usually were, but filled with emotions she never saw before. Sadness and pity.

"You'll see," He turned to the gargoyle that guarded the door. "Fizzing Whizbees" Oura would have laughed, if not for the situation. Had the Headmaster made the password that because of her Christmas present? She didn't have time to think anything else as Snape ushered her inside and up the moving spiral staircase. He knocked once on the Headmaster's door, before Professor Dumbledore called out for them to enter.

"Oura," Professor Dumbledore said looked up. "Please sit down." He was pinching the bridge of his nose, his half-moon spectacles tossed on his on his desk. The first thing that came to Oura's mind was that he looked older, sadder. She had met the Headmaster when applying for the school with her mother and he smiled the entire time, a joyful sparkle twinkling in his eyes. Now his eyes had lost that wonderful twinkle that Oura like so much.

"You may go, Severus, thank you." Professor Dumbledore dismissed Snape, who quietly closed the door behind him.

Oura looked at the tired old man in front of her. "You shouldn't trust him, you know." She said breaking the silence.

The Headmaster smiled sadly at her. "You know, I think you're not the first one to tell me that. I have my own reasons to trust him, but now is not the time to talk about that. I called you here for a much more serious topic then my staff choice," he sighed. "I don't really know how to say this. I was never good with words, but for your sake I will try. This morning a witch woke up early to get ready for the work. When she went to put her cats outside for the day, she saw something that scared her so deeply she nearly fainted. Over her neighbor's house was the Dark Mark. The witch who lived there had been murdered.

…..Oura, that witch was your mother."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xXx Hello My Owlettes! Here is the revised chapter which I think, even though it still is a bit short, you will agree is much better than it was. If you were wondering, Sicila is the name of Oura's mother. Just for your convince I figured I'd tell you how I think the way some of the names should be pronounced.
> 
> Oura- (ore-ah)  
> Sicila- (sis-ah-lah)  
> Rosaline- (roe-za-lyn)
> 
> Hope that clears some stuff up. xXx

Oura's breath caught in her throat. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't this. Her mother was murdered? And by the Dark Lord himself. No, it couldn't be her mother – although she wasn't very logical when it came to her father, Sicila knew enough to fight off an attacker. Oura buried her face in her hands, but didn't let the tears slip from behind her closed eyelids; she would stay strong. That's what her mother would want her to do. She looked back up at Professor Dumbledore. He had something more to say, it was written all over his face.

"Oura, I'm so sorry. This never should have happened, but there is more you need to know. On your birth certificate, your father's name is printed. Technically, Tom has full custody of you. The laws are so tight where guardianship is concerned, I cannot do anything about it. I'm very, very sorry." Dumbledore looked at her with great sympathy and helplessness in his eyes.

"What?! No, no I can't... he can't... How can the Ministry allow him to have custody, considering who he is..." Oura spoke for the first time, since Dumbledore told her about her mother.

"They don't realize who Tom really is. The Minister doesn't know they are one person," Dumbledore informed her. "Even though I tried to tell them, they don't believe me. The man we're thinking of is said to have died 15 years ago."

She nodded. Of course, they wouldn't know. To the Ministry, Tom was a harmless young man who was unemployed, and who's wife and daughter left years ago. Last year, he was found wandering around, homeless. She wondered how much make up and magic was used to make him look remotely human. The Ministry, not realizing his appearance was charmed in any way, helped him, giving him benefits so he didn't have to work and reinstated his marriage. And now, his wife was dead and his daughter was all that remained of his old life. They didn't realize that Oura hated him with a burning passion, and that she would never, ever live with him. But now, she needed to confront him.

"I want to see him." Dumbledore nodded at her statement, as though he expected nothing less.

"Be careful, and remember, Snape is your ally in this, even though he might not seem so." She nodded and left her cat Sterling at her heels.

* * *

The Dark Lord was plotting very carefully. He needed only one key component to put his plan into motion, a plan that would leave no one brave enough to oppose him. He simply needed to play his cards right. Hopefully, that key element would come to him tonight, during his meeting. The cruel man looked outside the study's bay window. The weak winter sun was completely hidden by dark clouds and the wind rattled the brittle, lifeless branches of the trees that littered the Malfoy estate. From where he was standing he could see the large wrought iron gate, which was overgrown with thorn bushes, and watched the last of the Death Eaters dash through it, not wanting to be late. The meeting would now commence.

Voldemort turned and swept down the stairs, his cloak billowing behind him, and Nagini slithering at his heels. His Death Eaters straightened as their Master entered the large dining room. He walked down the table to the head and sat himself beside his most loyal servant, Severus Snape. The fact that every man and woman was wearing a mask didn't matter. He knew who everyone was. Nagini could tell, simply by their smell.

"My brothers and sisters, my loyal servants, welcome." The pale, evil man hissed to those who watched him expectantly. "You need not wear your masks in this room. All here are trusted and no one may enter without invitation." The pale man watched as his servants removed their masks, placing them on the table next to their folded hands. "I called you here to discuss our next move. But first, I must thank Lucius and his lovely family for being so hospitable. I know most of you are wondering why I gave their son the honor of being in our inner circle, but the answer is simple; having another spy right under Dumbledore's nose was such a delectable chance, I just couldn't pass it up." The blonde teen looked down at his lap, embarrassed and more than slightly scared. Would he be able to do what was required of him? He massaged his upper arm, which was still sore from receiving the mark. "Now back to business," The Dark Lord continued. "We will be trying to-"

Suddenly, the heavy set of wooden double doors flew open and Oura stormed in, wand pointed, her eyes were full of pure hatred and her silver cat Sterling trotted fiercely as he could at her heel, hackles raised. The most shocking, though was her hair. It was on fire, causing her robes to smoke. And though the fire didn't seem to harm her, it caught many of the Death Eaters off guard.

" _You bastard!_ " She screamed in Parseltongue with such loathing the Death Eaters didn't even need a translation to understand what she said. Many jumped to their feet, pointing their wand in her direction, but Oura only had eyes for the man at the end of the table. The Dark Lord motioned for his servants to stand down. They did so begrudgingly. Voldemort stood, his arms open in welcome.

"Now Oura," He said, calmly, in English, "Is that any way to greet your father?" His key element was finally here.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Just a couple of things you should know. One; if you haven't already read the Author's Note, please do. It's VERY important. Thanks. And second... well there isn't really a second, so... Enjoy! xXx

Draco froze in shock. _What?! Oura... Dark Lord's..._ Daughter _?!_ Actually, now that he thought about it, it kind of made sense. When he first met her, she'd known who he and his father were….and hadn't she also said something about her own father? _"If you knew who my father was, you would kiss the ground I walked on."_ Yes, that was it. At the time, he thought her father was a prominent figure in the Ministry, or something of the sort, but now he realized what she meant. She was hinting that she knew what he was, and who his family worked for. And yet, she kept quiet about it. But that would make sense. If she revealed his position in the Dark Arts, she would have to reveal how she knew the information. No wonder she told no one. Draco absently wondered if Professor Dumbledore knew.

Many of the other Death Eaters were in a similar state of shock, except for Professor Snape, who simply leaned forward with interest. He didn't seem surprised, and only his eyebrows were raised in anticipation. He didn't seem to care that one of his best Potions students was standing in front of the most dangerous man in the world, wand pointed, and hair aflame. It looked as though he saw such things every day. Knowing his professor, though, Draco wouldn't be surprised if he did.

" _You may have been responsible for my conception, but you are NOT my father_!" Oura hissed dangerously. Only the man at the head of the table and the long snake that was slithering around his chair understood what she said.

Voldemort sighed. In any other person, the sound would be one of weariness, but in the man with only a piece of a soul, it came out as an angry hiss. "When will you learn, dearest Oura, that you are just like me? I am a part of who you are, and the sooner you accept it, the sooner I can grant you the power that I know you crave." He said for all to hear.

" _I am_ nothing _like you_ _and crave no power, not as you do. The power I want is to have you gone, so you can't destroy any more lives. I will do as much as I can to help make that happen."_

"Is this about me killing Sisilla?"

" _No, I'm just here for tea. Of course, that's what this is about!"_ Oura spat, "You murdered her. She loved you, trusted you! Do you have no soul?" She changed to English halfway through. "I already knew you had no heart"

"I simply did that so you would understand where you belong, Oura;" Voldemort said, his voice slippery and smooth. "With me! I wouldn't have custody of you otherwise. You know, before she died she asked me to take care of you. How did she put it, 'Raise her right'? Sisilla accepted the death willingly. I do believe she was actually in _love_ with me. Asked me to forgive her. Wanted me to take her right there." He laughed and his Death Eaters did, too. Draco did so half-heartily. He had heard the woman's screams. They still haunted him at night. "The look on her face when I refused her, and told her of my intentions, was priceless. But then, she said, 'Oh, Tom, I would do anything for you. Do as you must.' She doesn't take the Cruciatus Curse very well, does she?" The man smiled evilly.

Oura's eyes widened in horror as the pale man before her described her mother's death. She took a shaky breath, eyes closed, before reopening them with new determination in them.

" _Avis, Oppugno_ " She hissed, conjuring a flock of birds with sharp beaks and sending them straight for her father's eyes. A dozen Death Eaters jumped to their feet ready to curse the young stupid girl into oblivion, but the Dark Lord dissipated the spell with a flick of his wand and motioned for his followers to sit, not wanting them to interfere.

"Is that all you've got, my dear?"

Oura fumed. " _Stupefy_ , _Petrificus Totalus_ _, Incendio, Conjunctivitus,_ _Expelliarmus, Impedimenta, Levicorpus, Confringo, Locomotor Mortis, Sectumsempra, Tarantallegra, Furnunculus."_

" _Finite Incantatem"_ Voldemort shook his head as he deflected all of the girl's attacks. He watched the anger build in the girl in front of him. He smiled knowing she just needed a push. "Crucio is a very helpful curse when you're angry."

Suddenly, the anger in her eyes faded a bit as she realized what she was doing. She was doing just what her father wanted. If she used an Unforgivable curse, even on the man who killed her mother, she would be no better than he was. She lowered her wand and took a deep breath.

"I would _never_ stoop down to your level."

"You're weak. You just don't have the guts... or the power."

"Power is not just being able to hurt someone; it's being able to, and choosing not to."

The pale man got up and walked towards the girl with flaming hair and eyes full of hatred. Nagini followed at his heels. Oura's cat, Sterling, hissed at the large beast and jumped out, trying to scratch it. The snake pulled back and was about to strike when Voldemort stopped it with a sharp word. The cat hissed at the large snake.

"Do you remember the offer I gave you when you were younger?" the Dark Lord asked. Oura tensed and glared at him. She nodded once. "It's still open. Join me, and we will dominate the world. My power and your... abilities, nothing is stronger."

A slap rang out as her hand met the Dark Lord's face.

"Do you honestly believe I would _ever_ join you after what you DID!?"

Many of Death Eaters gasped. No one had ever laid a hand on their master. She was dead. She wouldn't live to see another hour. Before her hand could fall back to her side, he caught her hand.

"Such intensity. If only we could get you to place your stubbornness and power into our... campaign, we would not lose."

She ripped her hand from his grip, spun on her heel, wrenched open the doors, and they slammed behind her as she left the room. The Death Eaters were in shock. How could one girl be so important that their merciless master, who had tortured each and every one of them, left her unscathed? What were these abilities that she held that he needed so badly?

"My lord," Bellatrix Lestrange stood and bowed low behind her Dark Lord, who was still watching the door, deep in thought. "Might I ask why you let the girl leave, let alone unharmed? She assaulted you, and she can inform those against us of our whereabouts. What about her is so-" Her words were interrupted by her own screams as her master preformed the Cruciatus Curse on the witch without turning around.

"You," He said quietly, "Shall find out when I deem you ready. As of now, you will never question my decisions." He looked around her whimpering form to the rest of his followers. "She is not to be harmed by any of you. She is a vital part of my plan to rise to power and you would all simply prove to be hindrances. Now, Draco…"

The boy looked up in a panic. His father elbowed him and shot him a glare. The young boy put on a mask of indifference and obedience and asked quietly, "Yes, my lord?"

The pale man smiled at the boy's fear. He stepped over Bellatrix's whimpering body and walked back to the head of the table. After some effort, the witch stood as well and took her seat at the table. Once she was seated, Voldemort turned back to Draco.

"I want you to befriend my daughter." If Draco was imagining any order, it wasn't this. "Befriend her, make her fall for you, it is of no consequence. Just get her to join our cause. This is very important. Do whatever it takes, but make sure you are always in control of the situation. I want her to join willingly. You shall report to your father monthly, and he will report to me. Go now, she couldn't have gotten far. She will want someone to comfort her."

The platinum haired boy nodded and stood, collecting his mask and walking briskly out of the heavy wooden double doors, thinking. If he was the daughter of the most powerful and feared wizard in the world who had just heard about the brutal murder of his mother, where would he go?

Draco had absolutely no clue.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Just a couple of things. One; I'm SUPER sorry that I haven't updated in so long, I had just come back from a trip to Cuba when I last updated and I only published it then because my beta sent a revised version back while I was there, so I got the email once I was back in the states. I didn't really have the motivation to really write more after that. Thanks for staying with me, though. I promise I'll do my best to be regular about this. If I'm not, bug me in reviews and even pm me. And second, I wanted to answer some reviews. First off, Annaismyname and The-Darkened Abyss, thanks for the amazing support! It's great that people who really like my writing. Second, Trust-Me-I-Speak-Gibberish, Oura's last name is Voldemort's middle name, when he was Tom Riddle. Any other questions, don't be afraid to ask! I think that's about it, so... Enjoy! xXx

Draco didn't find Oura that night. In fact, he didn't see her at all during Christmas break. His father heard of an unregistered portkey being made on the night she disappeared from some people at the Ministry. Strangely, though, word of offense dissolved and nothing ever came of it. Lucius must have reported this to the Dark Lord, because Voldemort never questioned the young boy about it. Not that Draco ever saw his Master. The Dark Lord held parts of the Manor as his own and no one was ever allowed to enter those areas. Only one house elf served Him, and the creature was both blind and deaf. How He was able to get the elf to do as he wanted was lost on Draco. The platinum haired boy decided he'd rather not know. He heard of extremely skilled wizards being able to enter another's mind, and he had no doubt the Dark Lord had the ability. He just hoped he never had to experience it for himself.

The next time he saw Oura was the Sunday he got back to Hogwarts. It seemed that Oura had not left for vacation, other than that first night. It must have been frightfully boring, basically alone in the castle. Not that he cared, of course. Draco just couldn't imagine having such a... great wizard as his father. He had arrived at the castle a week early to avoid the crowded train, and because a meeting was being held in the Manor, one to which he was not invited. He absently wondered what it might be about as he stepped out of the Floo in Professor Umbridge's room. It had been some time since the woman had been appointed as High Inquisitor, and she had made him part of her Inquisitor Squad, so he could use the Floo as he pleased.

The toad-like woman looked up as he entered and tut-tutted as he got ash all over her hot pink rug. Draco's lip curled a bit as he turned to clean it up with a swish of his wand. The woman was worse than his mother when it came to keeping her room perfect. As part of the I.S., he had to make sure he stayed in her favor, so he could keep the power he had over the other students. If that meant cleaning up the rug, he would do it, even if he did so begrudgingly. He needed to feel in power.

He didn't see the flame-haired girl until he almost ran into her, he was so preoccupied about the meeting he was missing. He knocked the books out of her hands, as she was deeply engrossed in the one that was perched precariously on top. The girl uttered a soft apology as she stooped down to pick them up, before she glanced up and noticed who it was. Her eyes flashed dangerously and she suddenly whipped her wand out of what seemed like nowhere. Immediately, she had him backed up against the wall, hand with a fist full of his shirt and tip of her wand pressing his jugular. Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered in a rough, deadly voice.

"If word of who my father is gets spread ANYWHERE..." She released Draco, leaving him to fill in the blank. It wasn't hard. She glared at him one last time, and then disappeared around the corner, a trail books following her pulled by an invisible force.

Draco let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Usually, he took pride in the fact that no one could take him by surprise, but this girl had bested him twice. He disliked her even more for it. She had said that if he knew her father, he would worship the ground she walked on. Well, he didn't really feel in the worshiping mood today. Indeed, he felt quite irritated by the red head. She wasn't going to make befriending her any easier. Draco really hated her.

* * *

Oura really hated him. Whether it was him knowing her secret, his bullying of first years or just his better-than-everyone-else attitude, she had no clue. Perhaps it was all three. What drove her crazy, though, was the stir in her midriff she felt when her body was pressed against his as she threatened him. Maybe, it was her imagination. Yes, that had to be it. Her imagination was running wild again. Like last time they were that close. When he had stolen galleons from a first year. His eyes were like quicksilver, and danced as he had looked her straight in the eyes. Oura shook her head, he had just been trying to distract her from the gold coins he was trying to pocket. Nothing good would ever come of knowing him.

She sighed and let her memory drift to that horrid night. The look on the pure blooded boy's face was something she wished she had a picture of. She had never seen him so surprised, and... was it worry that had been etched into his features as well? Probably not. If he was a Death Eater that young, he had to have about as much caring in his icy heart as her father.

Oura didn't have much time for an internal dispute, though. She had to finish the research she was doing. Anxiously, she looked out a window of the castle as she walked by. The sky was an unbroken mass of grey clouds. There wouldn't be any problem tonight, at least. She let out the small breath she was holding. She had been checking the weather every few minutes, and it remained unchanged. She had cast a weather predicting spell as well. It said that the night would be cloudy, and apologized to all the stargazers. The weather spell wasn't always accurate, but it seemed to be right today. That, at least, was one thing she was glad of. She would prefer the castle to be empty of a certain blonde, but she couldn't have everything. Ah well, she would be able to tolerate him. With an almost deserted castle, it wouldn't be hard to avoid him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Not much to say this time, except that I haven't been getting any more reviews for Chapter 10. I would love to hear some feedback, constructive criticism, or any ideas you might have. Remember, the more you review the faster I post the next chapter. Anywho, that's about it... so enjoy! xXx

The wind was howling as Draco roamed the castle halls. Shadows from the torches danced across his face and he sighed gently. For some reason, he had been woken from peaceful sleep and couldn't go back into his sated state. He now wandered the halls with the pretense of I.S. duties, although the castle was practically empty. Draco stopped at a large window that looked out onto the Quidditch field and let his mind wander. He pondered the meeting he wasn't invited to, when his mother would owl him the Christmas presents that he had left at home, and then his mind, against his bidding, pulled a certain flame-haired girl into his consciousness. He shook his head at the thought. Oura was different than anyone else he had been commanded to watch. First of all, she knew who he was, and yet kept the information to herself. Not to mention that she had bested him twice already. He growled in anger. Draco took pride in his dueling skills, and could barely accept that _Potty_ had bested him, now a girl had as well. _It's not the first time,_ a little voice nagged. Well, of course, the _Mudblood_ had slapped him in third year, but a true wizard wouldn't stoop down to such vulgar means of attack. He shook his head again, as if to banish the thoughts. They weren't becoming of a Death Eater. Subconsciously, he rubbed his left arm. It was still sore. He focused on the yard, to keep his mind off of the thoughts that were becoming less and less uplifting. At first the grounds were pitch black, clouds selfishly stealing all the light of the stars, when gradually a gust of wind parted the dark mass and the silver light of the full moon shined down onto the Quidditch posts, making them glint in the wavering and uncertain glow. The wind kept blowing and soon there wasn't a cloud in sight, and the bright light of the moon filtered through the wavy glass making a small patch of silver where Draco stood. He smiled at the glowing orb. Moonlight was one of the few things he actually found calming. The tension in his shoulders relaxed and he stood in the sweet silence of the castle, the cool light gently wrapping him in its embrace. Then he heard the cry.

It rang out through the hushed halls, and was followed by the sound of books dropping to the stone floor. Without thinking, Draco raced to the source. The scream had been full of anguish and pain, and it shook him to the core. Somehow, this cry pulled at him in a way the deaths he himself caused never did. Why did this single cry affect him like that? It hit him as soon as he rounded the corner. He knew the voice, personally. There, in a pool of the moonlight that had just embraced him warmly, Oura lay shuddering and convulsing.

* * *

Oura ran through the halls, her bare feet making no noise on the cold, stone floor. She had forgotten a book in the library, and if she was fast, she would be able to get it back, before the library put the books that rested on the tables back into their places, a spell that Oura loved to watch. She had stayed late many times before, since Madam Pince had taken to her and let her, provided she leave when the books began to put themselves away. Even though the night was supposed to be cloudy, Oura wanted to get back to her dorm as fast as she could, just in case. Once she gathered the books, she calmed a bit. Casting another weather spell, she gazed at it thoughtfully. It still called for a cloud-filled sky. Sometimes they were wrong, but it couldn't be wrong this close, could it? She shook the worry out of her head and continued walking back to her dorms. There was no need to rush now. Oura opened the book to the page she was reading earlier, and quickly became engrossed in her research. She didn't hear the soft sound of footsteps that was a few corridors away, nor did she notice when they stopped. She only noticed that the clouds had pulled away from the silver moon, when the light drifted down onto her hand and a searing pain raced through up her arm and wrapped around her like a vice. She fell to the ground, letting out a scream of pain. Her body convulsed and she was only just aware of the sound of hurried footsteps that turned around the corner and then freeze. Oura struggled to pull her eyes open, but when she did, she wished she had left them closed. Through slitted eyelids, she watched Malfoy slowly approach her as though she was a wounded animal. She groaned in pain and convulsed again, causing him to forget his caution and hurry towards her.

' _I want you to befriend my daughter.'_ Now was a good a time as any. He ventured a question

."Are you okay...?"

Even in her current state, she mustered a growl at him, "Do I _look_ okay, Malfoy?" she ground out, her voice barely audible.

Malfoy rubbed his neck and mentally hit himself for asking such a stupid question. He shook his head. "I guess I should bring you to the Hospital Wing, seeing as you are in no condition to go by yourself." He couldn't keep the sneer out of his voice.

"NO!" Oura's eyes snapped open all the way and then hissed in pain from the effort. "No," she said quieter, the effort of just talking making her weaker and weaker. "7th floor... opposite the tapestry... Barnabas the Barmy... walk back and forth... 3 times... think what you need..."

The look on Malfoy's face told her he thought she was insane. He shook his head.

"You really need to get to the Hospital Wing." He reached down to help her up when he heard something that made him freeze.

"Mal- Draco... _Please_ " He looked down into her pleading eyes and sighed. As he bent down again to pick her up, Oura faded into a pain-filled darkness. _Please,_ she thought as she lost conciousness. _Please._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! I'm sooooo sorry it took so long. As you should know, my old Beta, , didn't reply for a while. Big shout out to her, though, for being an amazing Beta for the first 11 chapters. You all should check out her stories. They are fantastic! On this line I had a thank you for a new Beta that got back to me super quickly, but I sent her these chapters over a month ago, and she still hasn't emailed me back, so I'm going to post this chapter and the next without being Beta-ed. Let me know if you see any spelling or grammar errors! Now, I haven't been getting any more reviews for Chapter 11. Only my best friend reviewed it, and that's 'cause I made her. <3 you Introvertqueen! Remember, the more you review the faster I post the next chapter. Anywho, thats about it... so Enjoy! xXx

Oura woke in a room that was not her own. Every inch was a perfect white. A white bed with white sheets; a white table; even a white rose in a vase. The purity of the walls and floor were so bright, it hurt her eyes. Even the fireplace was made of a cold, pale stone. The only colour in the room was her, and the red flecks that stained the sheets. She must have coughed up some blood again. When she looked around, she realized that there was one more source of colour. Malfoy was passed out in a soft, white armchair, his hair mussed, as though he had kept running his hand through it. Now that she inspected further, the white table was laden with pale books on illnesses and common cures. She smiled sadly at that. None of those ever helped her, her case was... _unique_. She sighed and climbed out of bed, streching. Thankfully, she was still dressed. Oura was somewhat relieved. She shook her head and quietly looked around again. In the fireplace, dying embers glowed gently against the hearth. Malfoy must have tried to sweat it out of her. Indeed, when she turned back again to his hump of a form, his shirt stuck to his skin, drenched in perspiration. She walked over to the ivory table and stacked the books neatly in a pile.

 _I should probably leave a note for him_. She thought to herself looking over her shoulder at Malfoy. _He'll want an explanation._ If only she had some parchment. Coincidentally, she noticed some out of the corner of her eye as soon as she had the thought. She must have missed it before, seeing as it blended into the rest of the room. As she dipped the milky eagle-feather quill into the ink well that had appeared, she wondered why the Room had not personalized it to Malfoy's imagination. Oura had read about the concepts of similar rooms. They were linked to the user's imagination and needs. If she imagined the table underneath her hand like the one she remembered from France... Oura smiled gently as the perfect, round, white table elongated and slowly darkened. Now the table was a cherry-wood counter and her seat became a stool. She hadn't specifically thought of the stool, but when she thought up the memory of the counter, the stool was there as well, just indirectly. Oura would have to discuss this with Hermione. Maybe they could test the bounds of the Room together. She shook her head gently and pulled herself back to the present task at hand. She cast her gaze onto the piece of parchment, that was now adorned with her elegant handwriting.

 _Questions, come after dinner. Confront me then. I'll wait 'til 10. If you even THINK about telling_ anyone _about this, I will not hesitate to hex you 6 ways to hell and back.._

_Oura Marvolo_

She nodded, it would suffice. Looking down at it, she noted that she would need something to seal it. It came to her as she absently rubbed her dragon ear wrap, deep in thought. Oura tapped it gently with her wand, and it came alive, lighting softly onto her outstretched palm. She placed him on the roll of parchment, and the silver beast curled around in, settling with the appearance of sleep.

Oura got up and stretched again. She was always sore after a night like this. Glancing around the room, she noticed that her reminiscing had changed the room slowly. It now had the appearance of a common room, almost. The fireplace had become adorned with rustic-looking stones with a matching hearth. The mantle was a deep cherry wood and in front of the hearthside, a cherry coffee table was surrounded by soft, deep blue couches with pale green throws and pillows. A similarly coloured scatter rug lay underneath the table and the walls were lined with bookshelves made of dark wood. Behind the chimney, a black wrought iron spiral staircase climbed out of view. Oura noted that so she could check it out once pale bed was now a giant, elegant canopy bedstead with royal blue curtains and comforter with pale green sheets and pillows. Malfoy now sat in a pastel green armchair that matched the curtains of the bed. He looked almost peaceful when he wasn't being a prick to everything in sight. A small smile ghosted her face, before she caught herself.

Oura couldn't just leave him there, so quietly she set to work, pulling back the sheets on the bed, before levitating him gently onto the soft mattress, letting his head fall delicately onto the myriad of pillows. As she released him from the grip of her magic, he shifted, curling up in a ball. Oura started to turn, feeling as though she was invading something private. She went to leave when she heard him begin to mumble. Curiosity got the better of her and she crept closer. His voice became a bit clearer as she inched towards him, but stopped once she heard his words.

"...no... please. Don't, don't hurt them... it was my fault... punish me instead... please.. "

He curled into a tighter ball and sobs began to rack his body. This strong person, who bullied first years and hissed insults to anyone who didn't think like him, was now cowering from simply a dream. Oura's gaze softened knowingly and she quietly padded up to him, laying her wand on his temple, muttering a quick soothing spell, before quickly gathering her things and slipping out of the room, heading back to the Ravenclaw tower, lest she be caught out so early in the morning.

She met no one as she shambled tiredly along and even got a few minutes of peaceful sleep, before a third year girl knocked on her door, asking if she wanted to walk down to breakfast. Oura groaned, yet got up following the only other Ravenclaw that was staying for the holidays. It was going to be a long rest of the year.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Since I hadn't posted for a while, I decided to update as soon as possible. Thanks for staying with me! Anywho, that's about it... so Enjoy! xXx

The first thing that Draco noticed when he woke up was that Pansy was not jumping on his bed like a little kid to wake him up, which, for him, was unusual. As his eyes adjusted to the room, he looked around in confusion. He didn't remember ever coming here. It had the appearance of a common room, although it was nothing like the Slytherin room. The fireplace was adorned with rustic-looking stones, instead of the regal marble ones in Slytherin. The mantle was a deep cherry wood and in front of the hearthside, was a matching cherry coffee table, when they would have been black in Slytherin. The coffee table was surrounded by soft, deep blue couches with pale green throws and pillows. The two colours went together surprisingly well. A similarly coloured scatter rug lay underneath the table and the walls were lined with bookshelves made of dark wood. Behind the chimney, a black wrought iron spiral staircase climbed out of view. He looked at it curiously before turning around to look at the rest of the bed Draco was sitting in was a giant, elegant canopy bedstead with royal blue curtains and comforter and the sheets and pillows were pale green. Beside it sat a pastel green armchair that matched the curtains of the bed.

He puzzled a bit more before sliding out of the comfortable bed. As he did so, the events of last night came back to him in a flood. Finding Marvolo having a seizure in a pool of moonlight. Carrying her bridal style to the corridor she mentioned before she passed out. Walking back and forth three times, cursing himself for listening to a half-crazed girl. Staring amazed as a door appeared in the wall and walking in. Trying to figure out what was wrong with her. Rummaging through books on illnesses and cures, trying each one in vain. Giving up after almost two hours of trial and error. He must have fell asleep in the chair. He absently wondered how he ended up in the bed. By then, Draco had recognized the place. It was the room he had walked into last night, but the furniture was different. The only thing that remained from the room from last night was a pure white rose in a crystal vase that now sat on a long counter. Next to it lay a roll of parchment.

Draco padded over to it warily. After casting a few spells to make sure it was safe, he picked it up. It was clasped by a silver dragon that he could swear he saw somewhere before, but simply couldn't place. When he couldn't pull it off the parchment manually, he tapped the dragon with his wand, shaking his head as he did so. It instantly came alive and flew up towards the boy's face. It looked deep into his eyes, as though searching for something. Its wings bat lazily as it stared into Draco's mercury orbs. Suddenly, it snorted a cloud of silver, causing the man in front of it snap his eyes shut quickly, and begin to cough. When he opened his eyes again, the silver dragon was gone, but there was a new weight in his pocket. When he pulled it out, Draco saw the dragon, once more inanimate with the appearance of sleeping. He dropped it back into his pocket and unfurled the parchment. He snorted at the obvious threat that Marvolo had made, as though she could intimidate him. He was, however, curious as to what was wrong with her. He had never seen someone react so violently to what appeared to be nothing.

Draco looked around the room again. He also wanted to figure out what this place was, and how she found it. He had been at Hogwarts for almost five years now, and she hadn't even been here for one. How was it possible that she discovered this room before him? Maybe Loony Lovegood told her about it. The blonde girl certainly wandered about enough. Something told him that Lovegood hadn't, though. He had a sneaking suspicion that Potty and his friends had something to do with it. Marvolo had become quite chummy with the Mudblood. He rolled his eyes at the thought and tossed the parchment onto the glowing embers, and watch it slowly catch, the flames dancing up the paper then gradually turning it into dust. Draco turned away from the golden cinders left without a backward glance.

* * *

Oura only saw the blonde Slytherin once in the halls prior to dinner that evening. She had turned to go in the opposite direction, before refusing to let him see how affected she was that he knew her secret. Their eyes met for a brief second as Malfoy passed her, and he nodded ever so slightly. She would have never noticed the motion if she hadn't been looking at him so intently. It had made her breath hitch for some reason and as soon as the boy was out of sight, she let out an involuntary shiver and leaned against the wall, her knees suddenly weak. What was he doing to her? Though, she had to admit the blonde was attractive, she didn't like him. She couldn't. She wouldn't. The red head shook her head and pushed herself off the wall.

As she wandered through the halls, Oura distracted herself, though a bit unsuccessfully, by trying to anticipate what the Slytherin would ask her. She came up with a couple answers before her thoughts were cut short as she walked into someone as she rounded the corner. The girl muttered a quick apology and helped the boy collect his things. She muttered a quick Reparo to put the broken inkwell back together, and then levitated the ink back into the container. As she handed it to the boy, her eyes met the warm, chocolate brown eyes of one Terry Boot, who smiled as he took the well from her outstretched hand, his fingers brushing her's in the process.

"Thanks" Terry answered cordially. Oura looked away and a hint of a blush worked its way up into her cheeks.

"No problem, I was my fault, anyways. I wasn't paying attention." She replied. It wasn't the first time she had bumped into someone, while lost in her thoughts. And, since it was Winter Break, Luna was there to guide her away from any would-be collisions.

"I was just heading to the Library," Terry said conversationally, " Would you like to come as well? I find it easier to study with a partner. If you want to, that is." He added quickly, sending her a fleeting glance. Oura tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and nodded.

"Sure, I haven't studied in a while and I wanted to go over a couple spells, like Lux Lucis, and I wanted to research the Goblin Rebellions and the effects on Muggle distrust of the Wizarding community. Professor Binns hinted it might be in the O.W.L.s."

"You noticed that, too? I think that Professor McGonagall put a bit of emphasis on Vanishing, or was that just my imagination?"

Glad to have Malfoy off her mind, she continued chatting with Terry about different subjects and tests as they strolled to the atheneum. The pair were unaware that a certain blonde Slytherin was observing them. Soon, he faded back into the shadows and disappeared, fighting with a mysterious twisting in his stomach. He would confront her after dinner.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess J.K. Rowling) and my favorite cat Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Since I hadn't posted for a while, I decided to update as soon as possible. This one's pretty long, but there was no good place to cut it off. I can't promise that all of the chapters after will be this long, but I'll do my best. Anywho, that's about it... so Enjoy! xXx

Marvolo wasn't at dinner that night. Draco had trying to pass the time all day after seeing her in the hall with Boot. It bugged him to see her with the Ravenclaw, though he didn't quite understand why. In the end, he decided to go flying. Being on a broom always calmed him. Something about the rush of the wind around him as he raced around the field cleared his head and usually distracted him from his life at home. Living with the Dark Lord did tend to be stressful and any diversion was welcome, especially when things got bad with his parents. Even from his wing of the Manor, he could hear their screams when the Dark Lord was angry. He shivered simply at the thought. Those screams haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. Now that he thought about it, though, he didn't remember having any dreams last night and absently wondered why.

The sound of the Great Hall doors opening pulled him back to the a couple of students had remained at Hogwarts over the break. Since next to no one was at school, Draco had plenty of room to sit by himself, while still having a good view of the entrance to the giant hall. It was a Hufflepuff that slinked through the doors and the blonde sighed again. He was hoping that Marvolo would be in the Hall, so he could leave when she did, maybe getting his answers sooner rather than later. However, the unnatural redhead never graced the Ravenclaw table. He distraitly pondered her hair colour. It couldn't be natural, could it? Her locks were bright red, with low lights of deep brown. Almost flame-like. He shook his head. Thinking about Marvolo's hair? He must've be going crazy.

Draco stabbed at his treacle tart with his spoon and ate the last piece, downing the rest of his pumpkin juice before rising abruptly, too impatient any longer. He swept out of the Hall and arrived at the Room without a hitch, meeting no one on the way. He paced quickly, but hesitated as he reached for the knob. Marvolo would expect him to have questions, and he did have them, somewhere, unformed in his mind. He swiftly formulated them and pushed open the great oak door faltering no more.

The room was dark as he pushed his way in on silent hinges. The sun had set early because it was winter and the only light came from the dying embers in the fireplace and the moonlight that filtered in through the tall cathedral windows. Leaning against the frame was Oura... no, Marvolo. _Marvolo_ hadn't moved since he entered and Draco quietly padded closer. He stopped behind her and debated whether or not to let his presence be known. The Slytherin went to open his mouth when the girl before him began to speak.

"Amazing how something can be so beautiful and yet cause so much pain." It was a soft whisper, but in the silence of the room, the words ricocheted off the high ceiling, resonating in his ears. She turned to look at him, face bathed in silver moonlight, her eyes sad.

Draco softly stepped up to stand beside her and looked out. The Quidditch pitch was painted silver and it reminded him of the night before. Marvolo sighed and he looked at her expectantly.

"What is it like, the full moon? I bet it's beautiful. I haven't gotten a good look at for..." She trailed off and rubbed her shoulder, as though last night had taken a lot out of her.

The tired girl shook her head and turned away from the windows, waving her wand. The room slowly became brighter, though Draco couldn't find the source of the warm light. It was as though the light came from the walls themselves. He followed her over to the long cherry-wood counter and pulled out the stool across from where she sat. Draco cocked an eyebrow at her and waited for her to say something. Marvolo rubbed her neck subconsciously and took a deep breath, lips pursed, before she began.

* * *

Oura was tired. She was done trying to come up with an excuse, a lie, to tell the Slytherin, so when the blonde entered the Room of Requirement, she had finally decided the truth would be the best. A lot less of a hassle and she wouldn't have to remember every part of a lie. To be honest, the redhead hadn't meant to be so sad and mysterious when she was running what she was going to say through her mind. The words had just tumbled out when she noticed Malfoy silently padding up behind her. Luckily, he hadn't said anything, just let her lead him to the counter that was across the far wall. She wished absently that she had some pumpkin juice, and jumped when a loud crack marked the arrival of a house elf. She made her request quietly and it disappeared, coming back within seconds, placing the glasses on the counter and dissapperating again before the redhead could give her thanks. She took a sip and looked around.

The Room was exactly the same as it was she had made it the night before. The bed was even there, though she didn't really need it anymore. Oura saw no reason to banish, though. It tied the decor together. Yes, she knew she was procrastinating. A random seizure was not the easiest thing to explain to one's rescuer. And she used the term "rescuer" quite loosely. She looked at Malfoy, and took a deep breath, resolving to finish this as soon as possible.

"How to explain this... let's see... Do you have a specific question, or do you want the whole story?"

"Why did you practically have a violent breakdown over nothing?" Right to point then.

She laughed humorlessly. "The moonlight."

"The _moonlight?"_ He asked incredulously. He took a gulp from the mug in front of him.

"The full moonlight."

"You mean... you're- you're a werewolf?" His eyes widened in alarm, backing up a bit in the chair and she chuckled dryly.

"Did I turn into a giant hairy beast and rip you limb from limb? Didn't think so. No, I wasn't bitten by a werewolf, not even one that was a human. I drank the saliva of one, though."

"Why?"

"Because I just love a cuppa with werewolf-spit in the morning," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why do you think? Because my lovely father laced my cereal with it when I was, what, six? It was a while ago." She smiled bitterly at Malfoy's shocked expression.

"Oh? You didn't think that your marvelous Dark Lord would do such a thing? Have you met him, 'cause I don't think you have."

"But, why? There must be some reason."

"No, you're right, He has a purpose for everything He does. My father thought that if one would drink the saliva of the werewolves, that person could either change at will, or at least be sentient when a change occurred. He was obviously wrong." She looked at Malfoy and raised her eyebrows when he still looked shocked.

"That doesn't even make sense. It could have killed you."

"That's why he tested it on me first. He and his followers were too _valuable_ to risk, so his own daughter would be perfect to keep all his experiments under surveillance in case something should happen. It's not like I wasn't expendable, or anything. He could have used any prisoner, I just happened to be convenient. Now, don't look to shocked, word might get back to my daddy dearest, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" Suddenly, it was like she snapped her fingers in front of his face, bringing him back to the present. A neutral mask simply fell into place without any effort. It must have been something he did regularly. She wouldn't be surprised, though. Living with her father definitely demanded living with an impassive expression. The Mask was something she mastered early in her childhood.

"It wasn't the only experiment He did on me. That much is certain. All in effort to obtain more power, obviously. Most of them only had temporary effects, and none of them were actually effective. Well, except one." Oura sighed and rubbed her temples.

"What about your hair?" She raised her eyebrows.

What about her-

Oh, right. Fire. She had almost forgotten that he had saw that.

"He wants immortality, and he found it, in a Phoenix egg." She bulled over Malfoy's obvious question even as he was opening his mouth to ask it. "When a Phoenix reaches the age of 10,000, it can lay an egg, to help the population grow, if they so decide. They can also end the cycle of rebirth, though very few do. They have to become extremely wise, I believe."

"They can die?" Malfoy cocked an eyebrow skeptically. "And how come there are no records of this?"

"Yes, they can. Something about realizing that life and death go hand in hand, and no one can truly live if they do not eventually die. As to how there are no records, there are. My father fed me the egg when I was 12, I believe, and since then I did extensive research on the birds. There are very few accounts, but from what I gathered, Phoenixes have extremely powerful magic, magic so strong that it can cast complex memory charms on all humans they had contact with. Only the most powerful witches and wizards are unaffected, and, it seems, those that are closest to the sentient birds. A death hasn't occurred for centuries, though."

"And the flaming hair?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Just a side effect of the egg, it doesn't hurt me at all, though it is annoying when it burns my robes. I haven't found a spell that retards Phoenix fire." She smiled at him softly, taking another sip of her pumpkin juice.

"You said were 12 when the Dark Lord gave you the egg. How is that possible? I thought that you had fled to France. That's what my mother said, anyways." The smile quickly slipped off her face and she stared down into her cup.

"Yeah," She muttered and swirled the liquid around in her mug. "Like I said, one of the experiments succeeded. I don't like thinking about it." She sighed for what felt like the millionth time.

"Fire isn't the only side effect of the egg. There's a reason that my mother fled to France. As I got older, I began to understand what He was doing, even if my mother didn't. I also... He would hurt her, if she spoke out against Him." Oura shivered and pulled her glass closer into her chest. She took a swallow and set the empty mug on the counter, her hand shaking gently.

"I didn't believe what He tried to teach me. I don't know why. Maybe it was the torture of the only woman that ever loved me, or the small snakes that whispered in my ear that I didn't have to be like him. Even some snakes disliked him. Whatever it was, one day I refused to bend to his will. I was on the East Tower of our mansion when He came to me. I don't even remember what He wanted. All I know is that I looked into His eyes and finally said no. So He pushed me off the tower. I- I... died." She stopped unable to continue, dry sobs ransacking her body. Malfoy just sat there, looking dumbfounded. Only when Oura calmed some, he spoke.

"You were reborn." It was a statement, not a question. She nodded anyways.

"That caused my mum to flee to France with me, a 14 year old mind in a newborn's body."

"So, you're actually 29." Malfoy's eyes were wide as he looked at her.

"No, I was simply 14 twice. Being in that body, I experienced my childhood all over again, though this time more properly, I guess. It took me a while to reteach my body all the things I knew, but as soon as I was able to speak, my mother and I had a bunch of arguements over my father. She wanted to go back to Him. And she did, in the end. I knew He would kill her, I told her as much, but in the end, I still couldn't protect her." She looked up him, tears welling in her eyes.

* * *

Shit.

Draco had no idea how to react. And, damn, if that didn't complicate things tenfold. He ran a hand through his hair. What in Merlin's name was he going to do now?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess Rowling) and my favorite cat, Sterling.
> 
> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Trying to be regular with my updates again. Love you all for sticking around. Oh and big shout out to the Guest that reviewed. Got my butt in gear. As usual favorite, follow and review. It means a lot to me! Anywho, that's about it... so Enjoy! xXx

_"He wants immortality, and he found it, in a Phoenix egg_...

_...It wasn't the only experiment He did on me..._

_...One day I refused to bend to his will..._

_...He pushed me off the tower. I- I... died..._

_...You were reborn..."_

Draco's parents loved him. That was the one thing he knew would always remain, the one thing that he could be sure of. So when they taught him that purebloods were better than others, he believed them. When they said the Dark Lord was always right, he believed them. It physically hurt him to hear their screams when the Dark Lord was angry, but, when they told it was all for the best, he believed them. If his father ever lashed out at him, Draco still knew that it was for his own good, that they wouldn't do anything to harm him, nothing serious, anyways. But now... he wasn't sure they were right. He certainly wasn't sure that what the Dark Lord did was for the good of Purebloods, or anyone. If he killed his own daughter for the sake of power, what was protecting Draco's parents, but his own obedience? He shivered at the thought. What would happen if he didn't obey? What would happen to his parents? _What if he failed?_

He looked back up at the girl across from him. What in Merlin's name was he supposed to say to her? He had so many questions and he had no answer to any off them, so he simply let his Mask fall and reveal the uncharacteristic sympathy show through. He reached out, covering her hand with his own.

"Oura," It was a whisper, barely audible, but it was all he had to give her.

Her head to shot up in surprise, green eyes seeming brighter through the thin layer of tears that filled her eyes. Draco had no idea how long they stayed there like that, not talking, merely giving comfort to each other. After what seemed like forever, Marvolo... No, no. She was Oura now. She had opened up to him, spoke of what she fear, what had happened in her scarred life, calling her by her first name was the least he could do. Things had changed between the two of them. So after forever, and then some, _Oura_ pulled her hand back, and wiped the tears from her eyes. Draco's hand retracted automatically, and he studied her warily, as though he was afraid she would shatter before his eyes.

"Thank you, Draco." Her own whisper matched his. She smiled gently and gave him a half-hearted glare.

"This doesn't change anything out there, you know." She said nodding to the heavy oaken doors. "We're still bitter enemies to the rest of the world."

The moment was broken. Draco's sneer fell back into place.

"Of course. I wouldn't want to soil my reputation by being all chummy with a Ravenclaw who's friends with _Looney Lovegood._ " She really glared at him that time.

"She's not crazy, she's just... unique."

He snorted. "That's one way to put it."

She shook her head, smiling softly, and looked around. "What time is it?"

Draco rolled at his eyes and went to cast a Tempus charm when he heard Oura gasp. He glanced in her direction, to see her staring at an obscure clock that had appeared over the counter. It was about the same shape and size of a normal muggle wall clock, but that was where the similarities ended. Instead of numbers, the face of the clock, made of cherry-wood, was covered with different phrases, like "home," "school", "work", "travelling", "lost", "hospital", "Manor", "prison", "acquaintance's house", and "mortal peril", all painted in golden, ornate script. There were five matching, golden hands on the clock, names engraved elegantly on each one. The two hands that pointed to "Manor" read "Narcissa" and "Lucius". Two more pointed to "home", which read his and Oura's names. The final hand indicating "acquaintance's house" displayed the name "Rosaline".

"She's okay." Oura's voice cracked in relief.

Draco dragged his gaze from the odd clock to the girl who had collapsed onto her knees. Walking closer, the blonde held out his hand. His curiosity got the better of him and his question broke through the obviously private moment of relief before he could stop it.

"Who?"

"My half-sister." She took his offered hand and hauled herself up.

"About 2 years ago, I forced my mum out to have a good time and maybe meet someone to help her forget about my _father_." She still couldn't say the word without grinding her teeth and spitting it venomously. "She had too much to drink that night and came stumbling in at 3 in the morning. Rosaline was born 9 months later. Mum couldn't remember anything from that night. But, Merlin, did she love Rosaline. I did, too. She was the sweetest babe I ever saw. It didn't matter that she didn't have a dad. Between the two of us, she was more than taken care of. Mum brought her with us and when no one said anything about her, I was scared out of my mind that he had killed her as well. But she's alive... She's okay." She smiled up at the clock. "I love this room."

"Do you have any idea where she might be?" He questioned a bit hesitantly.

"No," She replied, still smiling, "But we have enough friends, both here and in France, that I'm sure she's perfectly safe."

Draco smiled at her joyful relief and glanced at the clock again. "I wonder, though. Why does the clock say that we're 'home'? We _are_ at Hogwarts." Oura furrowed her eyebrows and followed his gaze. Then her face lit up.

"I've got an idea. Gimme a second." And with that she hurried over to the doors, smiling at him as she slipped outside. He watched the door a bit confused, before turning to the clock again. Now Oura's hand turned towards "school". Draco's bewildered frown slowly turned upwards as he realized what she had thought of. Then, Oura's hand spun back up to "home" and Draco twisted around to see Oura walk through the doors. He nodded at her silent inquiry.

"It pointed to 'school' as soon as you left."

"Brilliant!" Oura beamed at him, and Draco found himself wishing she would do it more often, she was pretty when she smiled. He shook his head. What was she doing to him? He turned his attention back to the

redhead, "...wonder why it considers this our home. I have to explore the extent of this room with Hermione."

They both froze, grins falling as realization crashed back onto their shoulders. Hermione was part of the outside world. Part of reality. A part that Draco hated, and Oura... No, her name was Marvolo. A part _Marvolo_ liked. Ah well, it had been a nice illusion for a while. The platinum-haired boy turned away, his Mask falling back in place, and cast a quick Tempus charm.

"It's ten to nine. If we leave now, we can still make it back."

"Right, yeah."

* * *

The real world was still out there. Nothing had changed, not really. Oura sighed as Draco turned away, becoming stiff once again. She watched as he cast a charm and told her the time.

"Right, yeah." She went and collected her bag without looking at him.

"Oh, Marvolo," Oura crumpled on the inside at the use of her last name. On the surface, she simply stiffened, and turned, raising an eyebrow coldly. "You left this here last night."

He tossed her something and she caught it without looking away from the boy in front of her. Dra... _Malfoy_ , spun on his heel, leaving the room with a flourish. She looked down at the object in her hand. It was the silver dragon she had rolled around the parchment. A small drop of water fell into her open hand and ran down the back of the inanimate object. She reached up and felt her cheeks wet. What? Why...why was she was crying again? And over Dr... _Malfoy?_ There wasn't even anything to cry over. He used her first name to comfort her, but that was it, nothing more. Why did it matter that he had switched back to her last name? It didn't. The whole night had been emotional, her tears ducts must have been too tired to distinguish what was worthy of tears after everything. _Malfoy_ certainly wasn't, worthy that is. Oura shook her head and wiped the water from her face, pocketing the dragon and slipped through the heavy oaken doors. The last two nights had been hell. She needed sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess Rowling) and my favorite cat, Sterling.  
> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Trying to be regular with my updates again, though that’s not really working out well. This chapter was rather hard to write, as I haven’t really thought this part out, yet. It might not really flow as well as it could, but it shouldn’t hurt the story too much. As usual favorite, follow and review. It means a lot to me! Anywho, that’s about it... so Enjoy! xXx

Over the next few days, Oura only saw Malfoy during meals from across the Great Hall, which was fine by her. Whenever she saw him in the corridors, she would purposely walk in the opposite direction, or, at the very least, ignore him. Not that she had to, of course, he was acting as though nothing had ever happened, which was a good thing, really. No one had reason to be suspicious. Not that there was anything to be suspicious of. She didn’t think about him most of her waking hours, and she _definitely_ didn’t dream about him. And even if she might have had one or two, they would have just been the two of them talking in the Room of Requirement. Then add on the fact that she was still distraught over her mother’s death, and you don’t get a very cheerful Oura. Needless to say, it was the longest holiday of her both her life times.

 

Luna was still on holiday with her father, so the redhead spent most of her time with Terry Boot. He had been so sweet. Somehow, he had heard about her mother’s death and was trying to make it as easy on her as possible. He had snapped at Cho for being rude to her and one of the older Ravenclaw boys got a bloody lip for making a couple crude comments about her behind her back when she turned down his advances. Terry had been a bit worse for wear after that, with a black eye, a few bruises and detentions with McGonagall for a couple weeks. He’d make sure to sit next to her when they ate and studied with her on more than one occasion, helping her with some of the Transfiguration she was having trouble with. Not that she didn’t return the favor. The Ravenclaw boy was beastly at both Potions and Herbology, and, while Professor Sprout was kind enough to take the free set of hands in the Greenhouses, Professor Snape was an entirely different story. He flat out refused the use of his plethora of supplies for “wasteful usage”. Luckily, the Room of Requirement was more than happy to supply them with any and all ingredient they could ever dream of needing, excluding the rare, expensive and illegal, of course.

 

It was the day before the Hogwarts Express was due to arrive with the rest of their classmates that he asked her out. They were walking back from the Room of Requirement after making a successful batch of Girding Potion, when Terry stopped in the middle of their conversation about the theory of changing the ratio of Fairy wings and Doxy eggs for a more lasting effect to just look at her.

 

She eyed him curiously, one eyebrow raised. “What?”

 

“I like you.”

 

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Of course you do, you’re one of my closest friends, you _have_ to like.”

 

His ears turned a bit red. “No, I mean, I _like_ you, you know, more than just a friend” He ran a hand through his hair nervously.

 

“Oh,” She blushed, looking away and mentally slapping herself at her stupidity. “Umm... I think I like you, too.”

 

Terry smiled softly and held out his hand. “Then will you do me the honor of going on a date around the Grounds this Saturday?”

 

She laughed softly at his formality and took it, lacing their fingers together. “It would be a pleasure, my good sir.”

 

“It’s a date, then.” The pair continued down the corridor, their entwined hands swinging gently between them. Suddenly, Malfoy came to the forefront of Oura’s thoughts for the first time since that night in the Room of Requirement. How would he react to her dating Terry? Didit matter? If it did, which it didn’t, _why_? Why should she care what he thought? He had no say in her life. He simply knew more about her than anyone else. That didn't mean he was an important person to her. Even though he was the only one she could talk about her past with, it didn’t mean she wanted to. Or that _he_ would even want her to. Oura shook her head gently, ridding herself of the thought, pushing the blonde to the back of her mind. Terry looked at her curiously, but she just smiled at him, and he didn’t press further.

 

o0°0o

 

Saturday came fast. The days had flown by as all the Professors began to review for the upcoming O.W.Ls, despite that most students believed them to be a ways away. All of them were given twice the amount of homework, which caused Ron, Harry and many others to complain. The Ravenclaw House, however, took the extra work in stride and once again proved it’s right to the title of “Most Intelligent” house. Most of her housemates were enlisted to help with the rushed assignments and Oura was barely able to see Terry outside of class, where both had to scribble down notes with fever, so as to be able to help those who sought out their help. Seamus Finnegan had practically attached himself to Oura’s side to answer any and all questions he had about the lessons in which he fell asleep, half the time. To add onto the pressure, Umbridge, with her Inquisitor Squad, had been getting more vigilant and more than one DA member was caught lurking in the halls at night. None of the entanglements led back to the DA itself, thankfully, but Harry and the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio set up extra precautions.

 

It was none too soon when Saturday actually arrived, though. Oura let Luna help pick out what she was to wear. The girl had a surprisingly good eye for what would look good on her best friend, even if that talent wasn’t applied to the blonde’s own style. But to each their own. They settled for a big, comfy knit grey sweater that reached the middle of her thighs, a comfortable pair of dark jeans, and a pair of black, suede boots with a subtle wedge. As always, she charmed her dragon paper weight into an ear wrap, despite the memories it now held. Luna had her pull back her hair into a high ponytail and matched the ear wrap with a green dragon egg necklace. The blonde checked her once over for Nargles, before tossing Oura her black cloak and ushering her out of the dorms, down to the Common Room where Terry was waiting.

 

It was a beautiful first date. The Grounds were covered with glistening snow and Terry somehow rounded up two mugs of warm Butterbeer, which they had sipped as they held hands and talked. He told her about his family, and his pet Crup his father had gotten him, upon her request, though they avoided her own family for obvious reasons. She, in turn, told him about her childhood, the second one in France, anyways, and how she had gotten Sterling when she was 3. She told him all the trouble the two of them would get into when they got older. She recalled the story of how she messed around with her neighbor’s garden, once, and got bitten by a gnome, causing her to go crying to the neighbor himself, because she was afraid of getting in trouble with her mum. The kindly, old wizard had healed her quickly, but then set her to ridding his yard of the same pests that bit her. It had taken her the rest of the afternoon, and she acquired more than just a few more injuries, but her neighbor, Mr. Barkswith had a glass of Pumpkin Juice and a small plate of Blancmange. It soon became a tradition. She had forgotten about that tradition until that moment, and, suddenly, she realized that Terry had taken her mind off of how sad she had been since her mum’s death. He would be good for her. If Oura could have forgotten about that one... moment with Malfoy, she might have just been able to fall in love with the boy next to her. But, the memory had buried itself deep inside her mind and heart, and it wouldn’t let her forget. In fact, it did almost everything it could to remind her.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess Rowling) and my favorite cat, Sterling.  
> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Still trying to be regular with my updates again, though that’s not really working out well. This chapter was easier to write, it just came to me the other day. As I no longer have a Beta, let me know if you spot any errors in this chapter, and I’ll try to fix them asap. As usual favorite, follow and review. It means a lot to me! Anywho, that’s about it... so Enjoy! xXx

Saying that Oura had been busy was an understatement. She had taken three more students under her wing since she started tutoring Seamus Finnegan. The irish boy had actually received a E on one of the pop quizzes that Professor McGonagall had become so fond of, after overhearing a first year exclaiming how he was glad that Hogwarts didn’t give them. No better way to improve education, she often said. The first year had become _very_ unpopular very fast. After that, students flocked towards Oura. If Finnegan had gotten an E, she _had_ to be good. The redhead had only been able to agree to tutor three others regularly before she would have been overwhelmed.

Oura was barely able to see Terry, either. The mid year exams were eating up all their potential time together. She would only see him regularly in classrooms, where they were both scribbling furiously, oblivious to everyone, other than the Professors. They managed to go out on some Saturdays, but Terry had his own students to tutor and both were usually busy. The few dates they were actually able to go on were as beautiful as the first. There was a Hogsmeade trip that they took together and they ended up in a booth at the Three Broomsticks debating on the topic of the Goblin Wars. Oura was firmly set with the belief that the Goblins had every right to fight for their rights, while Terry believed they should have gone about the business more peacefully. Other times, they walked around the grounds, simply enjoying each others company. The only relaxing part of her day was when she was able to sit on the couches in front of the Common Room fireplace with him.

Oura had been so busy, in fact, she had almost forgotten about the full moon and the way Malfoy had acted. _Almost_.  He was the only distraction from her otherwise perfect attention on all her lessons. The width of his shoulders, the slope of his neck, the way he bounced his foot impossibly fast when he was stuck on a question. All were factors that pulled her attention away from the lectures and notes that required her concentration. At one point, she even looked down at her notes only to see that she had written _Malfoy Malfoy Draco Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Draco Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Draco Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy Malfoy_ all over at least half of  her paper. If Luna had noticed, she didn’t say anything. Still, Oura doubted the blonde did. The girl’s head was always in the clouds thinking of Nargles and Wrackspurts and what have you. It was astounding that she got so many O’s on all her exams. One would think that the girl paid no attention whatsoever and Oura never saw her doing homework, but it was always handed in complete and on time. It never ceased to astound the French girl. Yes, she may be avoiding the topic at hand, but the redhead didn’t know why she was so drawn to the blonde who angered her one minute, and cared for her in a time a weakness the next. She didn’t even know what to make of him. Was he bipolar or something? How could someone be so horrid, and yet so kind? Why was she even still thinking about him? She really didn’t know. Malfoy had probably already forgotten all about her.

Therefore, it was a bit of a surprise when she slipped into the Room she had created the morning after the full moon, to see him draped over one of the couches that still surrounded the warm, crackling hearth reading a book from the packed bookshelves that graced the side of the Room. He raised his blonde head as the door closed behind her, and she stood, rooted to the spot, watching his languid form. Only when he lifted an eyebrow did she snap out of her daze.

“I’m sorry... I... um... I didn’t know you were in here. I can go, if you...” She half turned to go as she trailed off.

“It’s fine, there’s plenty of room in here.” He stopped her. “Just make sure you keep quiet.” He added, seeming to decide that his reply wasn’t sharp enough.

Oura stared at him a few moments longer before nodding, more to herself than him, seeing as he had gone back to reading. She quietly made her way to the long wooden counter, pulled out her books and began to work on her homework, her mind whirling, not even trying to focus on the parchment in front of her. Why was he here? Why did the Room look exactly the same? The bed was still even there, neatly made. Did he like the Room like this? Oura had thought if he did come back to the Room, that he would have personalized it, at least adding more silver and taking out the blue, but the Room had not changed whatsoever. She shook her head to rid herself of the thoughts, hunkered down and got to work. She flew through her Charms Essay, and her paper on the Giant Wars for History of Magic. She read the chapter on the Draught of Peace, all of which she already knew. It wasn’t until her Transfiguration homework that she got stuck. She was supposed to write a rather long essay on the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell. She was having trouble even performing the spell, let alone explaining it.

After trying it a couple times in a hushed voice, Oura groaned in defeat. She cast a quick Tempus Charm to see that it was nearing curfew. Placing her wand on the counter, she rubbed her eyes tiredly. How was she supposed to finish the essay in twenty minutes? She had the entire theory down, a couple feet of it, but McGonagall had told them specifically that they had to include at least 5 objects that they were able to conjure, and how they were able to do so.

“Curfew soon.”

Oura jumped, hand flying to her wand out of instinct. She turned slowly to see Malfoy smirking at her surprise. She glared at him angrily.

“Merlin, Malfoy, you’re lucky I didn’t have my wand in my hands. I nearly hexed you into oblivion.”

He snorted, “Like you could.”

“Try me.” She spat back. He smirked and glanced at her essay.

“Why are you doing this just now? It’s due tomorrow. I was under the impression that Ravenclaws were goody-two-shoes that did everything the minute they get it.” He sneered at her.

She glared back. “I’m having... _trouble_ with the spell.”  
  


“You can’t do it, can you?” She huffed, crossing her arms.

“Maybe.” She ground out.

Malfoy laughed softly. Actually _laughed_.  It was quiet and reserved, almost as though he was worried someone might hear, but it seemed genuine all the same. Oura found herself wishing he would do it more often, despite the fact that she was the one being laughed at.

“Imagine, the great Marvolo, Smartest Witch of Our Generation, unable to do a simple conjuring spell.” She glared at him again.

“I can conjure just fine in French. It’s the English spell that’s confusing me.”

“Let me see.”

Oura blinked at him, confused. “What?”

“Let me see. Maybe I can help. I mean, if you think you can do it on your own, I’ll leave--”

“ _No_ ,” She interrupted quickly, and rather loudly. She coughed. “No, I mean, if you want to help...”

He watched her expectantly and she swallowed, focusing on the spell.

“ _Inanimatus Conjurus_ ”

Her wand sparked a bit, but nothing else happened. Oura sighed in defeat again, shaking her head.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong. _Faire Apparaître Inanimé_.” A large goblet dropped onto the counter in front of them. “That I can do no problem. I can conjure practically anything in French, so it can’t just be me.”

“Here, I think I know what you’re doing wrong.” The redhead started to turn and look at him, but froze as she suddenly felt his body flush against her’s. Malfoy wrapped his right hand around her own and his left gently rested on her left shoulder for balance. She could feel his breath on her ear. She swallowed.

“Now, relax a little. You’ll never be able to perform a spell that tense.” His words were soft and danced on her ear, doing nothing to help her nerves. She forced herself to follow his instructions. “Good. Now, focus on the thing you want to conjure. Just the object, nothing else.”

Like that was possible right now. “Focused? Now, you were moving your wand counterclockwise and then flicking it. Try tapping it instead, like this.” He moved their hands together, going through the motions.

“Now try the incantation.” He breathed so softly into her ear, she almost didn’t hear him. She muttered the spell quietly, not really expecting it to work. Despite her distracted state, a small teacup clinked down next to the large goblet. Oura’s eyes widened at the sight of it.

“I did it! I can’t believe it.” The blonde chuckled softly and slowly peeled himself from the excited girl.She turned quickly to thank him, before realizing how close they actually were. Draco made no move to step back and Oura could practically feel his breath on her skin.

“Um... I- Thank you.” She stuttered in a hushed tone, a small blush creeping up her face.

“No problem.” He replied in the same tone. The blonde leaned forward a bit, placing his hands on either side the counter, trapping her, and tilted his head so his forehead almost touched hers. Oura’s pulse quickened and her breathing became shallow. Draco’s eyes darkened and he started to lean closer, breath beginning to intermingle, when the curfew bell rung out, snapping both out of the trace-like state that had been created. Draco stood straight again and turned away. Oura slipped out from behind him and began to collect her books. She would add more to her essay in the Common Room. The redhead glanced over her shoulder at the confusing blonde.

“Thanks, again, for helping me with the spell.” He simply nodded, not turning to look at her. Oura shook her head silently and quickly shuffled out the great wooden doors. Her mind whirling once more. _What in the name of Merlin’s beard was that?_

****  
  



	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Harry Potter Series. That right belongs solely to the amazing J.K. Rowling. I DO, however, own the plot, Oura (not her last name, again the literary goddess Rowling) and my favorite cat, Sterling.

They met in the Room often after the first time, though not intentionally. Sometimes, Oura would go to just get away from all the noise and pressure from everyone, and everything, outside of the giant oak doors that acted as the barrier between the real world and the surreal, weightless suspension that existed in the Room; a calm type of floating that only she and Draco shared. The redhead would often stroll into their Common Room, as she soon began to think of it as, and see a delicate mop of silver-blonde hair over the edge of one of the couches. She would smile softly at him and he would nod before turning back to whatever book he was currently reading. Their Common Room seemed to have every book they could want and it wasn’t uncommon for Draco to be the one to slip through the doors to see Oura curled up in the plush arm chair, buried so deeply into the novel on her lap that she wouldn’t even notice his entrance. The house-elf that had served them before, Aster, had become rather taken with “Missy Oura”. The elf was quite loyal to the witch, appearing in seconds if the redhead would need anything at all. Aster had also, to the surprise of both 5th years, tutted over Draco like a mother hen, and seemed determined to make him gain at least 10 pounds.

After the first couple of incidental meetings, the two began to relax in each others company. Granted, Oura practically ignored Draco outside the Room, as he did her, but behind the large, oaken doors, they found that they didn’t really mind the company of the other. In fact, Oura seemed to be spending less time with her friends and Terry, and more time curled up in the armchair that she had seemed to claimed, reading quietly. Her blonde companion, if she could call him that, seeing as they weren’t really friends, hadn’t asked any more questions concerning the night they originally came to the Room, and Oura certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. It was as though there was an unspoken rule that the night of the full moon was a taboo topic of conversation. If that was off limits, however, then they weren’t going to touch the would-be-kiss... thing... event... _whatever it was_ with a ten foot pole.

As the days went on, Oura began to notice change begin to manifest between herself and her former enemy. It wasn’t that they were simply more at ease with each other, though that was part of it, but there were these accidental... touches. Nothing huge, to be sure. They were little, subconscious things, things she wouldn’t have noticed if it was anyone _but_ Draco. They brush shoulders when they stand at the bookshelves, despite the fact that the shelves were built along the entire wall. A hand resting gently on her shoulder when she’s sitting at the counter, as the blonde reached over her to grab a quill. Their fingers brush when he hands her a mug of Butterbeer that Aster brought them from the kitchens. Little things.

They rarely spoke to each other, though, opting to, instead, sit in a companionable silence that neither seemed to mind. If Oura needed help on Transfiguration, or Draco on Herbology, they would speak in near whispers, as though preserving the calm tranquility that blanketed the Room, warm and comforting, away from all the hecticness that came with exiting the shield-like doors. So peaceful was the room that Oura could dip into a good novel and when she would surface, hours passed. The two would rarely, if ever, let each other know how late it was getting, leaving whenever they wished, without so much as a goodbye. It was not rude, though, not in their eyes, anyways. It was not as though they were friends. They simply shared... something. Neither party really knew what it was they held. Secrets, maybe, but it was something bigger than that. Like a kind of truth. It was as though both wore a mask, a mask that they had worn for so long, it was almost part of their skin. But, when they enter the Room, the mask would slip and eventually fall into a puddle by the door, to be picked up when leaving. Oura often watched Draco slip through the doors and see a wave of tension fall away with the mask. She could only imagine that she, herself, appeared to do the same when she stepped over the threshold.

So rarely did they speak to one another, that it came as a surprise when Draco touched her shoulder one night as he went to leave, bringing her back to the real world. She peered up at him slightly confused. The blonde seemed fairly uncomfortable, an emotion Oura was unaccustomed to seeing on her former nemesis’ features. He cleared his throat gently.

“I... Tomorrow night.” She blinked at the oddly random statement, before he went on. “It’s the full moon.”

Oh. She had practically forgotten about that. What with tutoring in between classes, and coming to the Room during most of her free time, it had slipped her mind. She started, realizing he was looking at her expectantly.

“I suppose it is...” She trailed off.

“I’m guessing that you’ll be coming here, then?” The redhead nodded, casting a weather charm. Clear night tomorrow. Damn. She was hoping to be able to get a couple things done. There were a couple plants that bloomed only once a year, usually the first week of a winter month. She needed them for a potion she was experimenting with. Oura was going pick them tomorrow, since she hadn’t been able to tonight. Well, that was out of the question now.

“I never did ask,” the blonde broke through her thoughts. She flicked her gaze back to her companion. “How did you keep it a secret from everyone? I would think that at least Looney Lovegood would know.”  


Oura glared at him for the comment against her best friend, but let it slide in order to answer him. “I’m fine if it’s cloudy. The moonlight has to touch me for it to be a problem. I learned about the Room just in time for the full moon in October, and after that, I just came here. I usually get up early after an episode, so it’s easy to slip back into the common room and pretend that I was already up.” She shrugged. “As to Luna, I’m surprised that she can hand in homework on time, for the amount of attention she pays to the real world.”

Draco nodded and cleared his throat again. “Do you... I mean... If you want, I can, uh--”

“If you don’t have anything else to do,” She replied, understanding his meaning, “If the weather charm is wrong, I’ll probably get rather bored, sitting in here by myself.”

“Right. When does it rise tonight?”

“Five.”

The blonde nodded again. “I’ll be here then.” He turned away, task complete, placing his mask back on and slipping through the doors without so much as another thought. She sighed, her head falling back against the armchair, unaware that she was smiling softly to herself.

****  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xXx Hello my little Owlettes! Sorry for the delay in posting. I actually cut my finger a few weeks ago while cooking and had to get some stitches, so I wasn’t able to type. I’ll try to post multiple chapters this week, to try and make up for it, but I’m not sure if my muse decided to pay a visit or not, so no promises. Also, as I no longer have a Beta, let me know if you spot any errors in this chapter, and I’ll try to fix them asap. As usual favorite, follow and review. It means a lot to me! Anywho, that’s about it... so Enjoy! xXx


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